Operation Mr. Right
by Dreamwriter3
Summary: Serena is STILL searching for Mr. Right, that special guy whose arrival will solve ALL her problems in her loveless life. After years of disaster dates, she's comparing her life to a pathetic, cruel joke. There must be somebody out there for her...most
1. Default Chapter

Hello, hello! Alas, I got   
struck by another muse.   
This idea wouldn't leave  
me alone! So please, read,  
review, and email! Thanks!  
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own  
Sailor Moon!  
  
  
Chronicle One  
  
"The Forbidden Heaven." Ah, how I longed for it.   
  
The chance to actually breeze through those deliciously   
  
trashy books was one in a million, and it took a romance driven   
  
genius, such as myself, to concoct a covert plan to actually   
  
arrive at "The Forbidden Heaven" while escaping the customary   
  
scrutiny.   
  
  
1.Begin at the magazine rack. Hastily peruse Cosmopolitan   
  
and Glamour. Most importantly, remain inconspicuous!   
  
  
2.Subtly, move onto the Fiction and Literature section,   
  
preferably without tripping or causing a ruckus. May take extra   
  
energy, but it will be worth it in the end.   
  
  
3.Ever so slowly, slide to Poetry, only one section over from   
  
the destination. Fervently assess surroundings for any suspicious   
  
looking men or anyone remotely familiar.  
  
  
4.After making sure the settings are secure, scurry over to   
  
"The Forbidden Heaven," grab the latest Linda Howard novel, and   
  
move one's ass as fast as humanly possible.   
  
  
While reviewing these familiar procedures in my head, I   
  
flipped through the designated disguise book, Beowulf. So far, I   
  
had made it to the Poetry section. Every five seconds or so, I   
  
could scan the aisles. Damn, why that man kindly couldn't put that   
  
disinteresting book on the study of creepy crawlers down and walk   
  
away from my unofficial territory stumped me. I could almost hear   
  
Linda Howard's beckoning words call me. What torture!  
  
Finally, Mr. Creepy Crawler Fanatic walked away, finally   
  
deciding to purchase his find. I was ecstatic, to say the least.   
  
Without wasting a second, I threw Beowulf back to its rightful rack,   
  
dashed over to my haven, and desperately searched for the H's.   
  
There are too many novels, all blending into a big pot of half naked,   
  
gorgeous men and women. My romance senses were going crazy, warning   
  
me that someone was bound to walk past the aisle. Damn it, did the   
  
punks purposefully hide the good Howard's books from me?  
  
"Ah ha!" Like a hawk spotting a lone mouse, I swooped upon   
  
her latest novel, whirled around, and smacked straight into a wall.   
  
Instantly, strong arms wrap around me, pressing me provocatively   
  
against a blissfully hard body.   
  
Staggeringly back, my eyes lifted to clash with an amazingly   
  
midnight blue gaze. A face and a body perfect enough to join that   
  
pot of breathtaking men towered above me. A hand pressed against   
  
the small of my back. Tingles shot up my spine and attacked my lungs,   
  
making breathing suddenly difficult. Who I so delicately bashed into   
  
was not a wall; it was my mortal enemy, Darien Langston. Shocked that   
  
a mature twenty-nine year old woman could still have a mortal enemy?   
  
Well, believe it! Out of all the people I could have ran into in   
  
densely populated town of Tokyo, it had to be HIM. My eyelids   
  
fluttered shut, as if trying to shut out the rising embarrassment   
  
and sexual awareness.  
  
"Serena?" his smooth, tenor washed over me like honey. The   
  
jerk was blessed with the sexiest voice. My eyes hesitantly cracked   
  
open, revealing his telltale smirk. To add to his voice, the most   
  
compelling good looks. It wasn't fair.  
  
"Do I know you?" When in doubt, think of the lamest excuse,   
  
and play it out!  
  
"What? What are you talking about? You know me!"   
  
I considered the possibility of knowing him biblically as   
  
I reflexively wiggled against him, reveling in his masculine warmth.   
  
His eyes darkened dangerously at my actions, and suddenly his hand   
  
slid lower. What the hell am I doing?! Is the lack of sex in my   
  
life turning me so desperate that I am even finding Darien suddenly   
  
appealing?!   
  
I rightfully shoved myself out of his tightening embrace.   
  
"Nope, I'm afraid I don't. Well, would you look at the   
  
time? I better get going! See you later, Darien!" I called over   
  
my shoulder as I darted away, gathering all the horsepower my   
  
petite body could muster.   
  
Operation Forbidden Heaven had miserably failed.  
  
  
  
  
Two weeks after that incident, I took every route possible   
  
to eliminate the chance of me bumping into Darien. I'll readily   
  
admit that it is pathetic that a grown woman who lived on her own   
  
and managed a decent job was acting so immature. After all, I've   
  
been in more embarrassing situations, like the time when I walked   
  
out of the bathroom with toilet paper attached to my heels or the   
  
instance when….okay, digging up the equally embarrassing past was   
  
not helping my situation. Anyway, I needed to get over it. It was   
  
one small incident that he probably forgot. Guys never remember   
  
anything anyway, right?  
  
My mediocre day was going smoothly until the heavens opened   
  
up and it began to rain. It was nothing extreme, unless I counted   
  
the fact that I was carrying my fly-attracting, dirty laundry down   
  
to the cleaners. Hollering a few expletives that'd make a hooker   
  
blush, I broke into a sprint and rudely weaved through the bustling   
  
masses of downtown Tokyo. Along the way, I received varied reactions:   
  
whistles, middle fingers, pointing fingers, and blank stares. Let   
  
them look at the half crazed blonde running down the street!  
  
Finally, I arrived at the cleaners. Under the awning, I   
  
heaved a breath, panting heavily from my marathon. I hadn't   
  
exercised since the last Ice Age, and it definitely showed. My   
  
lungs were screaming for air, my legs were begging for rest, and   
  
my hair was shrieking for a comb.   
  
"Well, what do we have here?" a familiar voice teased.  
  
No, it couldn't be.   
  
"Get away!"  
  
"Ah, so you do recognize me? I guess that little   
  
rendezvous at the bookstore was a quick bout of amnesia."  
  
"Would you just leave me alone?" I grumbled, reaching   
  
into my sopping laundry basket and casting whatever I found at   
  
him. Unfortunately, it was one of my sheer, Victoria Secret bras   
  
I bought while in a hopeful mood to nab Mr. Right. Needless to   
  
say, Operation Sexy Serena was a pathetic failure.  
  
Darien plucked one cup off of his face and allowed it to   
  
dangle off of his lean fingers. He rubbed a hand over his jaw   
  
thoughtfully, his eyes boldly switching from the bra to my heaving   
  
breasts.  
  
"Not a bad size, I'm actually impressed," he winked.   
  
Fate wouldn't be so cruel, so sadistic, so…then again, yes   
  
it would.   
  
"Well, we won't start going into your inadequate assets!"   
  
snapped I, snatching the lacy undergarment. Tossing my drenched locks   
  
over my shoulder, I stalked into the cleaners. Barely refraining   
  
myself from banging my head against a dryer, I chose my usual washer   
  
and began to load my sodden clothes.  
  
Let's review my tragic life.  
  
  
Facts: I am a twenty-nine year old woman who possesses the same   
  
amount of sexual experience as I did ten years ago. In other words,   
  
I am an established member of the Singles Club.   
  
  
Problem: I need to find Mr. Right before my ovaries turn stale,   
  
but I just can't seem to find him. Or possibly, he is evading his  
  
fate of being forever bonded with me. Therefore, I turn to   
  
romance novels to pretend that I am in the arms of some handsome   
  
lover who sets me aflame. Yes, I am pathetic.   
  
  
Reason: May be due to my lack of couth and experience, inability   
  
to flirt and to say the right thing at the right time, and to go   
  
on would only make me burst into self wallowing tears.  
  
Solution: Consider joining a nunnery? Plenty of rejected old maids   
  
there.   
  
  
I jolt back to reality when warm lips brushed against my   
  
ears, hotly whispering, "If I ever get you flat on your back, I'm   
  
sure you'd hardly consider my assets inadequate." My jaw dropped   
  
and my cheeks turned the color of a tomato. My back straightened,   
  
but that only brought me closer to his muscular chest and toned body.   
  
The unaccustomed heat surged through my body like a wildfire, and   
  
for the life of me, I couldn't respond for the next two minutes.  
  
When I could, I whirled around and prudishly retorted, "I outta slap   
  
you senseless across your face."  
  
"I outta kiss you senseless."  
  
Sending him a scathing glare, I return to my laundry. He   
  
shrugged and does the same, choosing the open washer right beside   
  
mine, when there are plenty available in the nearly deserted cleaners.   
  
I gritted my teeth. Often, the jerk teased me with sexually charged   
  
jokes, knowing how much they irked and flustered me. I could handle   
  
bitchy customers, pressure from my boss, looming deadlines, but when   
  
it came to men and how to appropriately respond to such an odd,   
  
unexplained species, I was clueless.   
  
"I had no idea Linda Howard was such a talented writer,"   
  
Darien nonchalantly remarked. I stifled a gasp of shock and forced   
  
myself to fight a rising blush. The man knew exactly what buttons   
  
to push, and push he did.   
  
"Yes, so I've heard."  
  
"I recommend her latest novel. It is a very suspenseful  
  
mystery and very…hot."   
  
At that moment, I dropped the detergent measurer into the   
  
water and released a very unladylike curse. Gripping my basket,   
  
I counted to one thousand and one, five hundred sheep, and every   
  
mammal on the earth to relax before I responded with a strangled,   
  
"I'm not into mysteries."  
  
"I should have known that," he turned towards me, leaning   
  
one narrow hip against the washer.   
  
With a predatory glint in his hypnotic eyes, he easily   
  
returned my hateful glare, hopefully packed with plenty of threats   
  
to his life and manhood.  
  
"How could have you known? Just because you used to be   
  
bed buddies with Rei doesn't mean we're friends. Actually, I think   
  
you're a cocky bastard."  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
"In addition, if you ever go near me again, I'll punch your   
  
face in." Not the most sophisticated response, but it would do for   
  
now. My arch nemesis clearly found this amusing, because he threw   
  
back his magnificent head and released a deep, sensual laugh that   
  
beckoned those irritating tingles.   
  
"What a shame, because I can think of so many other things   
  
you could do to me."   
  
Eying him like a sultry seductress, (I had diligently practiced   
  
the act after watching seasons of those pretty vixens on Days of Our   
  
Lives) I teasingly moved forward until I was less an inch away from   
  
his deliciously warm body. His eyes automatically dropped to my mouth   
  
when I slowly licked my lips and purred, "You're absolutely right.   
  
I could…castrate you." Proud that I had won this match, I began to   
  
retreat to my corner of the rink when he wrapped one solid warm   
  
around my waist. I struggled against his advances. Whoever said   
  
turnabout was fair play should be tortured…   
  
"You know, it's no wonder you can't find a steady boyfriend,"   
  
he mumbled against my mouth. He winced when my body, clearly with   
  
a mind of its own, ground against his pelvis. I tried to unglue   
  
myself from him, but I felt so right and blissful in his embrace.   
  
As corny as it might sound, there was a sense of belonging in his   
  
arms, but the realization scared me worse than an angry hive of bees.   
  
"You arrogant son of a –"  
  
"Beneath the obnoxious mouth and attitude, you're just a   
  
virginal tease." I barely registered what he was saying, the   
  
sensation of his lips brushing against mine and his body  
  
plastered to me was absolute heaven. But wait, what did the   
  
loathing bastard label me?   
  
"I am NOT a tease! And I'm not a virgin either!" I   
  
bellowed, shoving heaven trapped in the form of an egotistical   
  
boor away. I stood there, aghast at the notion. Never, in my   
  
twenty nine, quite pitiable years on this earth, had I deliberately   
  
teased a man! There was that one time I was involved with Jacob   
  
Triam, but refused to tumble with him naked until….hmm, come   
  
to think of it, I never slept with Jacob. However, that was only   
  
one instance! Besides, what did Darien know? He was nothing but   
  
a selfish dolt who merely survived on the never-ending amount of   
  
air that filled his bloated head. It wasn't as if he ran a   
  
background check on all my past lovers, which would probably amount   
  
to two, at the most.   
  
  
1.Who? Agent Sarah Hughes – Virgin tease  
  
2.Criminal background – Enjoys getting men aroused for the   
  
hell of it but refuses to finish the deed.   
  
  
"I believe your little outburst has gotten the attention of   
  
just about everybody in here," drawled Darien, nodding his head to   
  
indicate the gaping stares that burned curiously into my face.   
  
Forgetting any of the sparse manners my mother managed to instill   
  
in me, I cursed worse than a hardened truck driver, slammed the lid   
  
of the washer down, and stalked outside. Before I could make my   
  
dramatic exit, my arch enemy stopped me with a light touch at the   
  
arch of my back.   
  
"What do you want?" I growled, sparks practically shooting   
  
at my eyes, and hopefully, singeing his perfectly groomed appearance.  
  
"I was never a fan of it before, but I think I'm acquiring   
  
a taste for pink polka dots."  
  
"Whatever." I shoved the doors open, bought two orders of   
  
nachos and cheese and hot dogs from a street vendor with the staring   
  
problem, and eagerly settled down to demolish them. Pink polka dots,   
  
what the hell was that eccentric Adonis referring to? At once,   
  
everything clicked.   
  
I stopped in mid bite and looked down. My pink polka d  
  
otted brassier was painfully evident through my damp, white T-shirt.   
  
I groaned, and began to tap my head against the table. Lightly,   
  
of course, so not to leave a dark bruise.   
  
News at six o'clock: Unidentified old maid is arrested   
  
in downtown Tokyo for attempting to strangle gorgeous jerk,   
  
Darien Langston.  
  
  
  
Oh the drama between these two!  
Stay tuned for more chronicles  
of Serena's charmed/cursed life!  
And email, review, email, review,  
email, get the picture?  
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com 


	2. Chronicle Two

Here's the second edition!  
Thanks to all the people  
who read my story, and more  
thanks to those who took the  
time to email me and critique  
it. Gave me a lil boost,  
since I was a little shaky  
on the comedy part. So..  
thanks! Hope you guys enjoy  
this one, and tell me what  
you think!  
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own  
Sailor Moon, but I do claim  
this, personal story.  
  
  
Chronicle Two  
  
  
"Maybe it's a curse," whispered Mina, stopping mid-bite   
  
to ruminate the possibility while the other girls eyed her   
  
strangely.  
  
"Mina! That's not supposed to make me feel better!"   
  
I exasperatedly admonished, waving my fork threateningly at her.  
  
"Of course, it's not a curse. A curse is scientifically   
  
impossible," comforted Ami with her PhD level explanation, her   
  
serene blue eyes resting upon me warmly.   
  
"I swear that Darien must have an internal radar built   
  
into him! He always manages to catch me in the most   
  
embarrassing situations!" I moaned, stuffing my mouth more   
  
vigorously as my mortification grew.   
  
"I could rough him up a little bit, he doesn't seem   
  
that tough," offered Lita, pounding a balled fist into her   
  
palm. I considered accepting the proposal, the fallen angel   
  
on my left shoulder battling with the heavenly one on my right.  
  
  
Bad Serena:Let her at him! Lita is easily one of the   
  
scariest girls in Tokyo!  
  
  
Good Serena:Now, now, violence is not the answer to this.  
  
  
Bad Serena:Hey you, shut your trap. My girl was called   
  
a virginal tease! No one should get away with that type of   
  
trash talking.  
  
  
Good Serena:It wasn't trash talking, buddy, he was just   
  
frustrated.  
  
  
At once, the two spiritual guides dissipated as I   
  
wondered about this new prospect. Had I inadvertently   
  
tormented Darien's loins to a point that…nope, the thought   
  
was definitely out of the question. How could an inexperienced   
  
klutz possibly affect the composed and untouchable Darien   
  
Langston, who undoubtedly possessed more sexual prowess than   
  
I could ever accumulate in two lifetimes? The thought was   
  
so ridiculous that I even laughed aloud at it.   
  
"Serena, have you listened to a single thing I've   
  
said?" Rei demanded in her usual, overbearing manner that   
  
I grew to love.   
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Maybe not."  
  
"It's not like you said anything important," I   
  
snootily condemned, feigning an air of superiority as I   
  
tossed my hastily gathered ponytail. My best friend stared   
  
penetratingly at me; I knew she was figuring out how to   
  
retaliate to my comments and actions. Instantly, her hands   
  
reached out, grabbed my untouched sundae, with extra hot   
  
chocolate syrup and whip cream, and prepared to devour my   
  
precious snack.   
  
"Noooo, please, take me instead but spare my sundae!"   
  
"I am holding your sundae hostage, and it will only   
  
be returned if you adhere to these conditions. You will   
  
listen to what I have to say, and you will listen well."  
  
"All right, get on with it then!" I grumpily urged,   
  
my eyes focused on the fluffy folds of the whip cream   
  
spiraling into a perfect, white peak. Mmm…sundae, wait   
  
concentrate, Serena, on the task at hand!   
  
"Why don't you ask Darien out?"  
  
My head snapped up, my eyes widened into two,   
  
sapphire teacup saucers, and my jaw dropped and bounced   
  
like a basketball to the ground. After staring stupidly   
  
at her for a few minutes, I burst into hysterical fits   
  
of crazed laughter. Wiping my tears, I reached for the   
  
sundae, gasping for air.  
  
"Very funny, Rei, now hand it over." Instead,   
  
she slid my cherished sweet closer to her, her spoon   
  
tapping against her glass of water.   
  
"I'm not kidding. I think Darien and you have   
  
some interesting chemistry."  
  
"Hah, we're as compatible as oil and water," I   
  
retorted, proud that I retained that bit of information   
  
from the numerous explosions and naps during chemistry   
  
class.  
  
"I remember once that I read a scientific study   
  
on the theory of opposites attracting," offered Ami,   
  
nodding her indigo locks vigorously.  
  
"Rei, you're nothing but an insane, ex-priestess   
  
who hasn't taken her medication for the day, right girls?"   
  
hopefully ventured I, the terror sinking faster than the   
  
Titanic when I received blank stares. It was impossible,   
  
my own group of best friends turning on me, actually   
  
prodding me to give than egotistical jerk a chance. Darien   
  
must have hypnotized them into believing this romantic   
  
mumbo-jumbo. Either that or aliens somehow abducted my   
  
friends and placed identical humanoids in their places.   
  
There must be a reasonable, logical explanation for this   
  
sudden change of heart…   
  
"Actually, we were discussing this—," began Ami   
  
calmly.  
  
"You guys were talking behind my back?!"  
  
"—And we concluded that the only reason why there   
  
is friction between you two is because beneath the hostility   
  
is an attraction."  
  
"Attraction?!" I squeaked. "Towards what, strangling   
  
each other?"   
  
"You don't even think he's has the most stunning   
  
eyes?" casually questioned Mina.  
  
"Sure, if you like blue eyes!"  
  
"And his mouth isn't absolutely kissable?" my blonde   
  
friend pressed on.  
  
"I never really noticed!"  
  
"He reminds me of my old boyfriend," Lita dreamily   
  
murmured, once again in her daily nostalgic trances.  
  
"Don't you just want to run your hands through his   
  
hair?"  
  
"Will you knock it off, already, Mina? Since you   
  
seem to have mesmerized every dimple on his face, why don't   
  
you ask him out?" I huffed, irritated that my supposedly   
  
group of loyal friends had shoved me into the limelight.   
  
"If I wasn't so in love with Malachite, maybe I would."  
  
"Look, this Darien business is out of the question.   
  
Want to know why? There are a million reasons why I never   
  
gave the thought second consideration. Shall I recite each   
  
reason? I believe I shall," I angrily stood up, brandishing   
  
my fork at each familiar face. As I began with reason number   
  
one, which complained of Darien's lacking assets, Ami's eyes   
  
widened as she gave a slight shake of her head. Mina and   
  
Rei exchanged laughing glances, but continued to idly push   
  
around the remaining food on their plates. I tilted my head,   
  
curious of my friends' strange behavior.   
  
Finally, Lita's husky voice gurgled, "Turn around!"   
  
I blinked a few times, mumbled a prayer to any deity   
  
or person willing to save me from the awaiting humiliation,   
  
and followed her plea.   
  
Then I cursed so colorfully that a truck driver   
  
would have proudly patted me on the back. I was becoming a   
  
key expert on this cursing bit, aside from always landing   
  
in the most uncomfortable situations.   
  
  
Instructions on how to deal with humiliation 101:  
  
Open Mouth. Insert foot.   
  
  
"Tsk, tsk, such language is unbecoming. You know,   
  
for a woman who's never seen an inch of my body, you seem   
  
it know it fairly well," Darien commented, amusement   
  
gleaming his midnight blue eyes.   
  
On my left shoulder, Bad Serena was attempting to   
  
secure the "You're Depriving Some Poor Village of Its Idiot"   
  
pin onto my blouse, while my angelic host stifled a rising   
  
giggle.   
  
As I continued to stare at the broad shouldered gift   
  
to all woman (or so he thought), my ex-friends, underline,   
  
circle, and bold EX, began to make the pettiest excuses of   
  
sudden engagements. Ami suddenly had to return a library   
  
book, although the libraries were always closed on Sundays.   
  
Interestingly enough, Lita, who absolutely detested the   
  
relaxing forms of fitness, had to hurry to make her yoga   
  
classes. In addition, Mina's long lost relative, Cousin   
  
Ralph, was paying her a visit for the day, and Rei was   
  
simply tagging along. In a matter of five seconds, the   
  
table was evacuated, with not a single hint that four   
  
traitors had once sat there.   
  
"That was strange," my enemy noted, lifting one,   
  
thick eyebrow at the whirlwind of lies and pathetic   
  
excuses.  
  
"Uhh…yeah." Bad Serena also began to fasten the   
  
brightly colored "Lame Responses" pin to my growing   
  
collection. I quickly assessed his appearance; once   
  
again the cad looked absolutely gorgeous a perfectly   
  
tailored, gray pinstripe suit that screamed a price tag   
  
more precious than my apartment's monthly rent. The dark   
  
colors outlined his wide shoulders and thick arms, ending   
  
at the palm of his elegant hands.   
  
"Please, don't let my presence stop you from your   
  
recitation," he gallantly encouraged, gesturing for me to   
  
continue.  
  
"That wasn't for your ears, eavesdropper. Now if   
  
you'll excuse me, I am going to finish my sundae in peace,"   
  
I grouchily declared, plopping down on a cushioned whicker   
  
chair and miserably shoving my already bloated face with   
  
thousands upon thousands of more calories. Once again,   
  
Darien's radar was true and faithful, and led him to   
  
witness another one of "Serena's Embarrassing Moment's."   
  
Had I been at the beach, my head would be buried five   
  
hundred miles beneath the sand, and there I would remain   
  
until my knight in shining armor plucked me out of the sand   
  
and whisked me off into Fantasy Land. Since I was,   
  
unfortunately, in the presence of Mr. Arrogance himself,   
  
I settled on adding more inches to my waist.   
  
"Of course, you're entitled to that," he admitted,   
  
settling comfortably into the seat across from me. Smoothly,   
  
Darien captured the attention a young waitress with chestnut   
  
curls and fluttering eyelashes. As he murmured a few corny   
  
lines that made my eyes roll, the poor victim began to giggle   
  
uncontrollably and deliberately adjusted her loincloth of a   
  
skirt. As she hurried with his order, I glared daggers at   
  
him.  
  
"Just what do you think you're doing?"  
  
"I thought that it was quite obvious, eating. I'm on   
  
break and haven't had a decent meal all day."  
  
"I think I deduced that, Sherlock. You can take your   
  
Armani suited rear to another table."  
  
"Not Armani today, sweetheart, but Ralph Lauren."  
  
"Whatever, you know what I meant. Go find your own   
  
booth, this one is especially reserved," instantly squashing   
  
that ridiculous spark of joy at his noncommittal term of   
  
endearment.   
  
"For who?"  
  
"For Serena Hughes!" I obnoxiously bellowed, baring   
  
every single morsel of freshly chewed bananas and cherries   
  
sopping around in my mouth.  
  
"Did anyone ever tell you that you have horrible   
  
table manners?"  
  
"Yeah and I dumped the jerk a week later."  
  
"Here's your drink, honey," Miss Loincloth returned,   
  
her skirt somehow shorter from last time. As I munched on   
  
my banana, I critically eyed the young woman, already guessing   
  
her life.   
  
  
Who:Miss Loincloth  
  
  
Status:Has plenty of hot dates and hot sex. Men are   
  
attracted with her coffee colored ringlets.   
  
  
Future:Mr. Right will come crawling to her, one hand with   
  
a bouquet of red roses, the other with a whopping diamond   
  
engagement ring.   
  
  
I, on the other hand, will be shipped off to a lone   
  
convent in Rome, Italy, and remain there for the rest of my   
  
pathetic life. Pink polka dotted brassieres will be banned,   
  
along with Victoria Secret negligee. Not too much of a loss,   
  
since all those enticing garments never managed to nab the   
  
poor man destined for me.   
  
"Can I get you a refill, ma'am," she sweetly turned   
  
to me, and suddenly I was filled with self pity and hatred.   
  
I was nothing but a bitter, twenty nine year old spinster,   
  
jealous that she could pull off such a revealing get up.   
  
"Please." To Nemesis: "Why are you still here?"  
  
"How could I pass up the opportunity to dine with   
  
the most beautiful woman in Tokyo?"  
  
"I don't know? Why didn't you stop Rei when you had   
  
the chance?"  
  
"You are particularly testy today; I'm guessing it's   
  
that time of the month again."  
  
"Nope, just another case of bad ovaries."   
  
I received a puzzled look. I was in a strange mood   
  
today, and I blamed it entirely on my EX-friends. Because of   
  
Mina's annoying remarks, my eyes were drawn to his intense,   
  
near black cobalt eyes, always somewhat guarded and veiled   
  
to the public. I remembered the heat boiling in my stomach   
  
when his sensual mouth brushed against my own, so close to   
  
kissing me. Black locks were neatly combed back, completing   
  
his polished appearance. I imagined my hands massaging his   
  
scalp and silky strands as he left a trail of hot kisses   
  
down my throat, collarbone, and finally my…  
  
Whoa! I instantly reddened and shifted away from   
  
him, embarrassed and disgusted with myself for letting my   
  
fantasies get out of hand. Darien watched me closely, a   
  
knowing smile spreading across his handsome face.   
  
"You look so lovely when you blush," he teased,   
  
reaching across the table to run his lean fingers over my   
  
knuckles. Alarmed at the electricity that passed between us,   
  
I flinched. He instantly withdrew, a troubled look clouding   
  
his breathtaking blue eyes.   
  
"You obviously aren't used to being touched, are   
  
you?"   
  
"Sure, but not by creeps."  
  
"You've got spunk, Hughes, that's something I'll   
  
always give you credit for."  
  
"Humph." We settled into lapse of silence, though   
  
I was surprised to admit, it was not uncomfortable or   
  
unbearably awkward. I returned to my sundae, savoring   
  
each drop of chocolate syrup. My eyes fluttered shut to   
  
concentrate on its richness, ignoring those evil calories   
  
attacking my thighs and rear. Hell, if I was bound to fail   
  
at tracking Mr. Right, I might as well fail being happy and   
  
chubby. My mouth even engulfed the small amount of sweetness   
  
coating my spoon, my tongue lapping up the last remains.   
  
Ah, even cruel Lady Luck couldn't steal the scrumptious   
  
taste of the Arcade's legendary sundae.  
  
"Do you enjoy getting the entire male population   
  
aroused?" a voice coolly demanded. Time came to a screeching   
  
halt, but began again when my spoon clattered to the table.   
  
I jerked my head up and clashed with Darien's stare, the   
  
evident heat quite contrary to the composure in his cultivated   
  
voice. His hands, usually languidly resting at his sides,   
  
were flattened against the table. Again, I felt that tell-tale   
  
blush creeping up my face. Nervously, I licked the smeared   
  
chocolate off my lips, drawing his smoldering gaze from my   
  
wide eyes to my mouth.  
  
"Or maybe you enjoy teasing only me?" he calmly   
  
proposed as he stirred his steaming broth. I was perplexed,   
  
for two reasons. One, could it be that I, the embarrassingly   
  
unladylike Serena Hughes actually affected this powerful,   
  
untouchable man?! Hah, perhaps there was a tiny spark of   
  
hope for Spinsters Anonymous. Two, how in the world did the   
  
man broach this subject without a hint of hesitation or   
  
embarrassment?!  
  
"Now why would I waste my efforts on you?"  
  
"Let's see, perhaps because you are fishing for a   
  
date?"  
  
"What?! Well, I never…" I vehemently began.  
  
"Or you're dying to find out what sex with me would   
  
be like," my warning radars blinked red his voice seductively   
  
dropped a few octaves. Instantly, images of Darien's mouth   
  
pressing kisses to my open mouth as he thrust into me flooded   
  
into my head. For Pete's sake, just looking at the man made it   
  
obvious that he was a dynamic lover. He oozed sensuality out   
  
of every pore of his body, and even I, yes the stubborn Serena   
  
Hughes, was not immune to it.   
  
"No," the sophisticated, grown woman that I am managed   
  
to choke out.   
  
"I think you are. And when I finally do get my hands   
  
on you, I'd make sure it would take all night."  
  
It was indecent, really, that a man could have such   
  
captivating power with his words. I was barely breathing; my   
  
heart was pounding so hard that I thought I just completed   
  
a marathon. Instead, I was just sitting very rigidly in my   
  
chair, gaping at the enemy whom I suddenly fantasized pressing   
  
against me, gloriously naked.   
  
"What makes you think I would ever let you?" I   
  
flippantly questioned.  
  
"Oh, I will, one way or another. Mark my words,   
  
sweetheart," guaranteed the man whom I had despised so   
  
fervently in the past. Without a single flicker in his   
  
penetrating gaze, he paid for the entire bill and, like   
  
the gentleman he was, led me outside. Trying to somehow   
  
harness my raging hormones, I pulled my arm away from his   
  
stimulating touch, but his hands only slid down my   
  
forearm and clasped my hand.   
  
"Let go of me, you creep. I should have you   
  
arrested for sexual harassment!" I angrily declared once   
  
outside. Clearly amused at my attempts to slap away his   
  
hands, he laughed his deep, sexy laugh and comfortably   
  
settled a hand at the nape of my neck.   
  
"Sexual harassment is only when one party does not   
  
consent."  
  
"Well, this party is in discord with your party."  
  
Bending down so his mouth nuzzled my own, a   
  
tormenting habit of his, he murmured, "Is that so?"  
  
"Yeah, so back off before I punch your face in."  
  
"Hmm, you are so tempting," sighed Darien as he   
  
lifted his head, leaving my awaiting mouth out to dry.   
  
I smothered a rising protest and solidified my weakening   
  
knees. The last thing the jerk needed was another ego   
  
boost.   
  
"You really are a cocky bastard."  
  
"And you really are a virginal tease."  
  
"I guess we're even then," I happily announced,   
  
creating a feeble shield by crossing my arms.   
  
"Not even close, Hughes," he winked at me and   
  
began to walk towards the immense building of Langston &   
  
Langston Inc.   
  
"Yeah, well, keep on fantasizing buddy!"  
  
  
Good Serena:Ladies do not lie.  
  
  
"Oh, shut up," I muttered.  
  
  
Bad Serena:That's my girl!  
  
  
News at six o'clock:Blonde, old maid is caught talking   
  
to supposed angels standing on each one of her shoulders.   
  
Immediately, she is transported to clinic for mental health   
  
check up.  
  
  
  
Another chronicle in my version  
of Serena's life. Is there more  
to Serena and Darien's not so  
pleasant relationship than what  
meets the eye? Are her alien  
abducted friends somewhat right?  
Who knows, but keep watch for   
the next chronicle to find out!  
Oh, email and review, E&R, got it?  
Good.  
  
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com 


	3. Chronicle Three

Hello! Sorry for taking so long to update,  
but to make up for it, this chronicle is  
fairly long. Longer than the other ones  
at least. Thanks again to all those sweet  
people who emailed me and critiqued. Muchas  
gracias! You guys are too good to me!   
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer: Hmm, nope, I definitely   
don't own Sailor Moon. But I do  
stake this story as my own.   
  
  
Chronicle Three  
  
  
Through my pathetic, nearly sexless years on this planet,   
  
I have collected enough information to put together a thesis on   
  
colors and style. For instance, the infamous black thong equates   
  
to 'I want to do the horizontal mamba. Now.' Generally, black   
  
is a very 'come hither' shade, it somehow triggers the men's   
  
caveman instincts. Unfortunately, in my case, the men I dated   
  
were too thick headed, nervous, or plain strange to be coaxed   
  
by black. Or, perhaps, they were too repelled my lacking   
  
strengths to even attempt a seduction. Either is highly   
  
possible.   
  
"So, what are you trying to say, Serena?" I questioned   
  
myself as I perused my clothing crammed closet. Although I was   
  
certain my closet would explode if I even attempted to shove   
  
in another blouse, I still couldn't find something suitable to   
  
wear to this date. It was a strange phenomenon.  
  
Perhaps I should explain how I arrived at this dilemma.   
  
The truth be told, I was utterly weary of being the oldest,   
  
surviving member of the Single's Club. Damn it, all my friends   
  
have departed from the congregation, whether it was through   
  
engagements, proposals, or weddings, steady boyfriends, while I   
  
have remained rooted to my throne of singleness! So...heh...I   
  
decided to close my eyes and trust my ever dependable friend,   
  
Mina.   
  
  
Announcer:If you're tuning in just now, audience, Serena has   
just reached a new low! Although she swore to never again do such  
a thing, she has just agreed to go on a blind date with a pocket   
protected, bespectacled, suspender wearing "nice guy!" The   
preparation of the blind date is sponsored and thanks to the ever  
scheming love goddess herself, Mina! Can we get a round of  
applause?!  
  
  
[The crowd begins to nod off. A lone cricket is heard.]  
  
  
Okay, okay! Maybe I didn't completely trust Mina, but   
  
based on her performance in the past, she has never given me any   
  
reasons to be confident of her abilities. Last time, the man, who   
  
she claimed would be 'the One,' somehow confused my face with   
  
my chest, and chose to leer at my rack for the majority of the   
  
date. It ended with me soundly whacking the grinning pervert   
  
over the head with my trusty purse and shouting, "My eyes are   
  
up here, buddy!" Needless to say, date two was completely out  
  
of the question.   
  
So why this change of heart? To be perfectly honest,   
  
I was growing desperate and she was growing quite insistent of   
  
this mystery man.  
  
  
Announcer: And, to top it all, audience, she doesn't even know  
the guy's name!  
  
  
[Still no response for the half asleep audience.]  
  
  
That was a minor detail. I planned on remedying that   
  
right after I figured out if my lipstick color was appropriate.   
  
Pausing at a mirror, I critically inspected my make up, mentally   
  
debating whether or not to change the color of my blush lipstick.   
  
I discovered that the fascinating theory on color and style applied   
  
to lip colors: each shade carried a particular message. No one   
  
else appeared to be very interested in my hypothesis, but there   
  
was a slight possibility of winning the Nobel Prize. This,   
  
glamorous shade was wildly screaming "I'm in desperate need for   
  
anything remotely male," an implication I wasn't certain I wanted   
  
to flaunt.   
  
"No use trying to hide it," I spoke to my reflection in a   
  
weary voice.  
  
When the doorbell rang, I shrieked, tugged on my freshly   
  
curled mane, and jumped onto my couch. Immediately, I clamped a   
  
trembling hand over my slacken mouth, uncertainty freezing me.   
  
Like the dumbfounded blonde that I am, I gaped at that white gate   
  
to hell, not wanting to face the "pocket protected, bespectacled,   
  
suspender wearing, nice guy" waiting patiently on the other side.   
  
Add to that long list of complimentary adjectives: nameless.  
  
I began that never ending stroll to my white door, the   
  
assumed image of my blind date branded on my mind. After I   
  
quickly recited my long forgotten rosary, I mumbled a prayer   
  
of memory, and turned the knob…  
  
"Nice to meet you, Serena," a moderately deep voice   
  
greeted me. My eyes quickly swept over the dark haired man,   
  
zooming in for the customary, first date examination.   
  
  
No glasses…check.  
Dressed casually nice…check.   
Suspenders (please no!)…double, double check!   
Pants are worn at a decent level…check.   
Good-looking…check.  
  
  
His mane was a bit long, but neatly groomed into a   
  
tight ponytail. Being it the first time accompanying a man   
  
who had longer hair than I did, I wasn't certain how to react.  
  
Happy? Surprised? But at least his eyes were politely   
  
remaining above my neckline. Relief surged through my body,   
  
and before I could stop myself, I eagerly shook his extended   
  
hand so heartedly that he stumbled towards me.   
  
"Heh...sorry," I apologized, reddening slightly when   
  
he concernedly scrutinized his crushed hand and straightened   
  
his collared shirt.   
  
  
Annoying inner voice:Way to go, Hughes, he probably thinks   
  
you're a fugitive from the "Nerds and Dorks" circus.   
  
  
  
"It's okay, I'm just not used to woman greeting me   
  
with such enthusiasm," Mr. Nice Guy Without a Name good   
  
naturedly teased. I stupidly smiled back at him while   
  
wracking my brain for his name.   
  
"Steve!" I triumphantly shouted. My outburst was   
  
so loud and unexpected that he flinched and staggered a   
  
few steps back, a puzzled look officially entering his   
  
chocolate brown eyes.  
  
"W-Who's Steve??"  
  
  
Empire:Strike one!  
  
  
"Uhh…Steve told me that your name was...Seiya!"   
  
Relief relaxed my shoulders as his name finally floated   
  
upon me.  
  
"Who's Steve?"  
  
"Uhh...," my computing brain spit out a response,   
  
"a close family friend of Mina's."   
  
"Funny, I never heard of him before," he nervously   
  
observed. His gaze darted past my shoulders and into my   
  
apartment, searching for evidence that could verify his   
  
growing belief that I was a runaway from the Tokyo clinic.   
  
  
Empire:Strike Two!  
  
  
If my newly named date had sprinted faster than a   
  
speeding bullet away from me, I could have hardly blamed him.   
  
First, I was spurting out appallingly random comments,   
  
giving off the impression that I was the strangest resident   
  
in Tokyo. No wonder I could never steadily date, my odd   
  
behavior scared off all possibilities of finding Mr. Right.   
  
However, tonight, I held Starbucks' caffeine saturated,   
  
calorie packed drinks completely responsible for my   
  
outlandish behavior.   
  
"Serena?" Seiya questioned, noticing me fervently bite   
  
my lip at the dreaded thought. Snapping back to reality, I   
  
pasted on a semblance of a smile. I could only imagine the   
  
after-date review conversation between Mina and him. It would   
  
consist of long lost cousins and unexplained outbursts.   
  
"Oh? I'm sure you'll meet Cousin Steve soon."   
  
"Perhaps I will."  
  
While my devilish host on my left shoulder proceeded to   
  
climb down and add "Eternally Dateless" to my growing collection   
  
of pins, I decided to gather the remaining grains of sanity by   
  
flashing him a hopefully melting smile and batting my voluminous   
  
eyelashes (thank heavens for Revlon) at him.   
  
"Sorry, I suppose I just got caught up in the moment.   
  
So where do you plan on taking me tonight?" I deliberately made   
  
my voice ooze sweetness as I locked up my apartment and walked   
  
with him down to the lobby door. I made a mental note to be   
  
careful; I had only one more strike to go before Seiya booted   
  
me off to the nearest insane asylum.  
  
"How does Kushiro's Café sound?" he politely proposed,   
  
not even hesitating to open the door for me. I breathed an   
  
internal sigh of relief, at least Mina emerged from her dense   
  
cloud of blondeness to chose a gentleman for me. My dear, but  
  
ditzy, friend had her brief moments of stark brilliance.   
  
"Sounds great to me."  
  
  
Two hours later...  
  
"Well, Mina certainly didn't lie. You're a very   
  
beautiful woman," complimented my date. I caught myself mid   
  
snore and roused from my little nap. Rubbing my tired eyes,   
  
I smiled drowsily at Seiya and murmured a half hearted   
  
"thanks."   
  
"Your eyes are red."  
  
"Allergy season. It's terrible right now," I reasoned,   
  
coughing for the full effect. He was much too of a "nice guy"   
  
for me to actually blurt out that I didn't need eye drops, but   
  
a man who knew how to talk about other topics besides his droll   
  
life.   
  
"That's horrible."  
  
"Tell me about it!"  
  
"Speaking of allergies, I remember one instance of when   
  
I treated a woman who was horribly allergic to something inside   
  
her house, but the problem was that the family could not figure   
  
out what it was! It was quite a dilemma."  
  
"I'm sure it was," I politely commented while toying with   
  
my napkin.  
  
"Aren't you curious to find out what she was allergic to?"  
  
"Quite, please finish with your story," I nodded, while   
  
adding in my head, 'before I die of complete and utter boredom.'  
  
"It turned out that there was a specific chemical in her   
  
husband's cologne that triggered her allergies. Can you believe   
  
that? The reason was beneath her very nose the entire time.   
  
We shared a good laugh about it, the thought still makes me smile   
  
from time to time," Seiya chuckled, actually slapping his knee   
  
as he clearly tried to stifle a rising chuckle.   
  
During this amazingly interesting and hilarious tale, I   
  
had begun to practice my origami with my stained, linen napkin.   
  
The swan's wing needed one more fold by the time story hour was   
  
finished, and it would remain unfinished until he remembered   
  
another brilliant adventure he participated in. Pausing in mid-  
  
fold, I noted his hopeful expression and fumbled for an appropriate   
  
answer.   
  
  
Serena's Brain:Uhh…what did he just say?  
  
  
Damn it! I forced myself to think quickly, every second   
  
ticking by chipped away at his disintegrating ego.   
  
"You don't say!" I exclaimed through my plastered on smile.   
  
In between the origami sessions, I had only picked up bits and   
  
pieces of allergies and cologne. Everything else was swallowed up   
  
in my cloud of boredom.  
  
My shoulders visibly relaxed when he nodded his head in   
  
accordance, obviously agreeing with my blind remark. I couldn't   
  
help but feel guilty over the fact that I was acting like a very   
  
bad, ungrateful date, but the man's idea of excitement was just as   
  
appealing to me as playing a twelfth game of Scrabble on a beckoning,   
  
Saturday night.   
  
"I see you have a talent for origami," he noted, nodding   
  
at my swan.  
  
"Uh...yeah, it's a gift for you!" I nodded vigorously, shoving   
  
it into his palm. A faint smile touched his generous lips as he   
  
inspected the neat folds.  
  
"Thank you. Origami is such a beautiful part of the   
  
Japanese culture."  
  
"Yes, it is."   
  
"So…."  
  
"So…." I uneasily trailed, twirling my golden locks.   
  
  
Serena's Spider Senses:Warning! The pace of the date is   
  
reducing at alarming rates.  
  
  
The date had arrived to that disastrous moment of   
  
finding something to say, diminishing our conversation to that   
  
uneasy word "so." Desperately searching for some sort of   
  
exciting distraction, I was tempted to dunk my head in my half   
  
eaten shrimp Alfredo. With a bit of luck, the cheesy noodles   
  
could hide my rising feeling of hopelessness. There must be   
  
something wrong with me, whether it is physically or mentally.   
  
I was beginning to believe perhaps a bit of both.   
  
  
Case Number:4051  
Patient:Hughes, Serena  
Diagnosis:Patient is diagnosed with the disease of   
incapability to find Mr. Right.  
Description:Patient has eerily oversized hips, a mouth   
that spurts out wrong answers, and table manners that'd appall   
a wild beast.  
Cure:A big, fat INCURABLE  
Reaction:Patient burst into self wallowing tears and   
promptly demanded that chocolate mouse be readily available.  
  
  
"Why don't we just head home?"   
  
"So early?"  
  
"I...have to be at work earlier tomorrow."  
  
"Of course, I wouldn't want to be the reason for your   
  
tardiness," he flashed me another lop sided smile, which   
  
unfortunately, did not make my heart skip a beat or even flutter.   
  
I allowed him to pull out my chair and assist me into my sheer,   
  
spring jacket. At least chivalry wasn't completely dead…  
  
  
  
Back at my apartment, I endured the most awkward moments   
  
of, not traditional silence, but noise. Seiya would crack one of   
  
those corny knee-slappers, and gaze at me so expectantly that I   
  
was forced to convulse into ultra-fake laughter. It was a sad   
  
sight.   
  
"I enjoyed tonight, Serena," he smiled.   
  
"Thank you, Seiya. You were a good date."  
  
Like two teenagers, we stood, me, distractedly tapping my   
  
purse against the wall, while he searched for another knee slapper   
  
of a joke. For my collapsing sanity, I prayed for the night to end   
  
before he busted out another fabulous, medical dventure.   
  
"Can I be honest with you?" I divulged suddenly.   
  
"Sure."  
  
"I don't think we hit it off," I heard my blabbering mouth   
  
declare. Upon seeing him blink back his emotions, I continued,   
  
"You have good looks, you're clearly intelligent, you tell good   
  
jokes (I had to save a bit of his dying ego), but the connection   
  
just wasn't there."  
  
"I guessed that," sighed Seiya, his lop sided smile flipped   
  
upside down.   
  
"Please don't take it the wrong way."  
  
"I'm a grown man, Serena; I understand that our chemistry   
  
just wasn't balanced." There it was again, another reference to   
  
that damn subject I never fully grasped. Once my ancient professor   
  
began broaching ionization, I was utterly lost in a soup full of   
  
confusing definitions.   
  
"It's just that, at this age, I want to be sure I'm dating   
  
someone who I'd seriously consider committing to."  
  
"Of course."  
  
I was about to explain an article I read in Cosmopolitan   
  
on the growing difficulty of women to find 'the One' once they   
  
climbed that landmark called thirty, but I settled on helplessly   
  
offering, "Maybe we could be--."  
  
"Before the conversation gets worse, let's end the night.   
  
Good night, Serena," he placed a quick peck on my turned cheek.   
  
I nodded silently, and was about to retreat into my apartment when   
  
he spoke again.  
  
"You really are a special lady. I hope you find the right   
  
man."  
  
I watched Seiya until he disappeared down the steps,   
  
desperately wishing that he was Mr. Right so this idiotic quest   
  
would be over, and I could finally snuggle with somebody in bed.   
  
With an impatient sigh, I trudged back into my haven, wishing for   
  
a faceless man to warmly embrace me and ask me the usual questions:   
  
how work was today, how offensive my boss was, etc. Instead,   
  
a dimly lit living room welcomed my exhausted presence.   
  
Looking around, I murmured, "Me too."  
  
  
Empire:Strike Three!  
  
  
It appeared that my pitiful life would consist of another   
  
long, dateless year. I made an extra effort to contain rambunctious   
  
shouts of jubilance. Whoopee.   
  
  
  
The next day...  
  
"So, what did you think about Seiya?" sang Mina, her sunny   
  
deposition nearly blinding me. I had been dreading this moment since  
  
the moment I entered the Crown Arcade.   
  
Taking a deep breath, I trailed uncertainly, "He was cute...."   
  
"But what?"  
  
"He had long hair."  
  
"And that's a bad thing, I'm assuming?"  
  
"Well...I would never rule out a guy with long hair, but   
  
I prefer men with shorter hair."  
  
"But he was cute," my fair friend reinstated determinedly.   
  
Seeing that fierce, mother hen glint in her cobalt eyes, I gulped   
  
back my fright and vigorously bobbed my head.   
  
"So how did the date go?" politely inquired Ami as she   
  
daintily wiped her mouth.   
  
"Well, aside from enduring the most terrible jokes and   
  
occasional napping, it went fairly well."  
  
"I'm guessing it didn't make it to the bed," dryly   
  
commented Lita.  
  
"Hell, it barely made it to my door."  
  
"Good going, love goddess Mina."  
  
"Hey! Seiya is a sincerely, nice guy, and that's exactly   
  
what Serena told me she wanted. You did let him down gently,   
  
right?" she turned towards me, her earnest blue eyes making me   
  
feel uglier and meaner than the Wicked Witch of the East.   
  
"Uhh…"  
  
"Serena! What did you tell him?"  
  
"I told him we didn't hit off."  
  
"You told him that!" balked Mina, the color slowly   
  
draining from her tan face as she gaped at me. It was amazing   
  
how one rude comment could reverse all those expensive hours   
  
spent frying her skin.   
  
"That's my girl!" Rei proudly piped up through a mouthful   
  
of pasta, patting me on the back as she shoved another spoonful   
  
into the crevice she called a mouth.   
  
"I had to! I couldn't lead the man on, honestly!"  
  
"But did you have to say that?"  
  
"I did offer to be friends...," I helplessly offered.  
  
"You did what?!"  
  
Had I just cursed her entire line of ancestors in Japanese   
  
instead of answering the question? Cautiously, I replayed the   
  
previous conversation in my mind. Nope, I had said...  
  
"I offered to be friends."  
  
"I heard you the first time!" the not-so jolly red monster   
  
reared her golden head. I shrank against Lita, burying my head into   
  
her comfortable shoulder.  
  
"But he cut me off before I could!"  
  
"Of course he did, he had to salvage his dignity somehow!"   
  
"Did I break some sacred dating rule by offering that?"   
  
Lita patted my head empathetically, but was too intimidated by that   
  
fact that Mina's face exactly matched the color of her flaming   
  
scarlet bow to interject. Or perhaps it was that frightening   
  
manner she pointed her fork at me.   
  
"I'm afraid so," sighed Ami, her crystal blue eyes filled   
  
with sympathy. I scratched my head. How in the world did a woman,   
  
who spent her entire life engrossed with dusty textbooks,   
  
have more knowledge about these useless, unspoken laws?   
  
  
Note to Self:Ransack the library for tips on what NOT to say   
  
to a man when rejecting him.   
  
  
"I hate rules, I hate men, and most of all, I hate being   
  
single!" I shouted as I rose to my seat and, for the theatrical   
  
effects, threw my fork at my plate. The girls stared blankly,   
  
mentally debating whether to crawl under the table or just slyly   
  
slink away from the berserk blonde. For countless centuries   
  
(so it seemed), I had renewed my membership at the Singles Club,  
  
Spinster's Anonymous, and, let's not forget, the Lonely Hearts   
  
Alliance and damn it, that act was exhausting and embarrassing.   
  
"What's wrong with me?!"   
  
"For starters, screaming in the middle of a restaurant is   
  
a bit eccentric," to my left, an amused voice declared. I should   
  
have guessed that, once again, Darien's internal radar managed   
  
to pinpoint and hone in on another of my dramatic tantrums. At   
  
that moment, as I turned to confront the ultra-sexy businessman   
  
beside me, I decided that all fits and screaming would be limited   
  
to the privacy of my own home.   
  
"I'm beginning to think that maybe I should get a restraining   
  
order on you."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that, I'm not the one throwing my   
  
utensils across the room," my archenemy pointed out, slanting   
  
me a breathtaking grin. Of course, the scoundrel was perfectly  
  
groomed and donned a specially tailored, charcoal suit. His dusky   
  
cobalt eyes were lazily alternating between my pursed lips and eyes.   
  
"Beat it, Langston."  
  
"And miss another of our infamous bickers? Never, Hughes."   
  
To my starry eyed friends: "Hello, ladies, I hope you're doing well   
  
today." They replied with their warm smiles and batting eyelashes,   
  
much to my annoyance. Although he was an official ignoramus,   
  
(I know he had the certificate to prove it) Darien always managed   
  
to charm and dazzle the susceptible victims of the weaker sex.   
  
I, on the other hand, saw him for what he truly was: a fancily   
  
dressed bastard.   
  
"Darien, please, take a seat beside me," Rei suggested,   
  
patting her empty seat with a sly expression on her perfectly   
  
beautiful face. He complied, wrapping an all-too friendly arm   
  
around her shoulders. I squashed that irritating green dragon   
  
trying to rear its ugly head, after all, the two had already seen   
  
each other naked numerous times. It was ludicrous to feel   
  
jealous, even if the pair made an outrageously gorgeous couple   
  
with Rei's glossy, raven mane and compelling violet eyes and   
  
ignoramus' jet black hair and arresting blue eyes.   
  
As I sat, err, stood there, hatefully glaring at my   
  
adversity, Rei tossed her silk strands and flashed him what we   
  
girls nicknamed the "Southern Belle" smile. The woman perfected   
  
every twitch to a point that she could melt an iceberg if she   
  
chose to. Inject sigh. If only I could filch the smallest bit   
  
of her sexual aura, I would be content.   
  
Meanwhile, Darien, sprawled languidly like a panther,   
  
gazed at me so disconcertingly hotly that I, like the silly   
  
schoolgirl that I am, blushed and narrowed my eyes to slits.   
  
My breath caught in my throat when his eyes slowly slid down   
  
my body, studying my breasts, which were ridiculously round   
  
for my petite self, my waist (which I believed was thickening   
  
by the second), and my flaring hips. As my nails dug into   
  
my palms, he, just as slowly, returned to my red face, and   
  
smiled sexily.   
  
I hated Darien.  
  
Yes, it was as simple as that. The man teased me so   
  
unmercifully, completing aware of how traitorous and hormone   
  
driven my mind and body were.   
  
"We girls came to the conclusion that Serena and you   
  
would make a splendid couple," purred Rei, winking at my   
  
bewildered expression.  
  
  
Note to Self 2:Chop off Rei's lovely black locks. Then  
wave the severed tresses in her face.   
  
  
My own best friend was scheming against me, and worst,   
  
she was in league with the enemy!  
  
"Is that so?" lazily drawled Darien, still not taking   
  
his eyes off of me. Through Morse Code, I blinked to Rei that   
  
her life would end shortly. In the face of death, she smiled   
  
triumphantly, as if happy over this horrible betrayal.   
  
Helplessly, I turned to my other friends, but they only began   
  
to share their much unwanted input on what a grand idea it was.   
  
I began to believe those familiar faces hid truly evil aliens,   
  
intent on destroying any shred of dignity of mine.   
  
"You will kindly discard that comment, and all the others.   
  
Rei is just going through an early life crisis and wants to know   
  
how it feels to brave death."  
  
"I'm feeling quite well, thank you."  
  
"Shut up, Rei."  
  
"I'm not much for matchmaking, (I actually snorted at this)   
  
but I have to agree," airily added Mina, stirring her brewed tea   
  
with a scheming twinkle in her eyes.   
  
I decided that my flaxen haired friend would do nicely   
  
with a freshly shaved head.  
  
"When hell freezes over!"   
  
"I suppose I should watch out for that soon, because we   
  
already arranged for your date," serenely informed Ami, and instantly   
  
I began picturing her with a shortly cropped buzz.   
  
"Come again...?"  
  
"That's right, since you decided not to follow our advice,   
  
we decided to follow our advice for you. We managed to book two,   
  
very expensive tickets, to see the Nutcracker," my last hope,  
  
Lita, briskly related.  
  
"And exactly how can you justify taking these liberties?"  
  
"Simple, your friends are always right, no matter how much   
  
you whine, complain, and bitch," Mina calmly explained while   
  
drizzling more dressing over her Caesar salad.   
  
It was time for a different approach. "I don't like   
  
ballets."  
  
"Bunch of bull, Serena, and I know it. You were as happy   
  
as a kid on Halloween when you heard that the Nutcracker was   
  
playing at the Tokyo Ballet Academy."  
  
Damn. "Well, I refuse to see it with him!"  
  
"Oh, stop being such an old fogey!"   
  
I was truly shocked at Rei's exasperated statement! Being  
  
twenty nine did not make me an 'old fogey!' Or did it?   
  
"Can I speak with Serena for a moment?" politely questioned   
  
Darien. Without waiting for anybody's consent, especially mine,   
  
he grabbed my arm and dragged my cursing, spitting fire self   
  
outside. Once again, the Arcade was blessed with another interesting   
  
scene; I'd hate to even consider the manager's opinion of me. As I   
  
called the bastard every obscenity in the book, not to mention some   
  
that I created, he led me to an abandoned alley and finally released   
  
me.  
  
"Get away from me, you creep! I don't want to talk!" I   
  
bellowed while nervously inching away from him. The towering giant   
  
was slowing meandering over to me. There was an intense, clearly   
  
lustful, heat in his darkening gaze, a frightening scowl replacing   
  
his poised smile. I gasped as he pressed me into the brick wall,   
  
allowing me to feel every inch of his gloriously hard body. One   
  
hand tipped my chin up, forcing me stare at his handsome, but   
  
enraged face. His mouth descended, but I defiantly turned my   
  
head away to evade his kiss. I felt deep chuckles rumble within   
  
his chest, which, might I add, was tightly pressed against my   
  
flattened breasts.   
  
Clearly, he found my rejection a source of laughter. I   
  
could have easily castrated the gorgeous seducer/womanizer, had I   
  
not been trapped against the wall. Damn wall...damn man.  
  
"Neither do I," his lips sensually moved against stubborn   
  
jaw, just skimming over my parted lips. Heat began to build at   
  
that center of stomach, weakening my resolve to damage his   
  
precious manhood. I settled for a nice, stinging slap across   
  
his rugged face.   
  
My daydreams of calculating his painful death were   
  
immediately interrupted when he pressed a hot, wet kiss against   
  
the curve of my neck. I garbled something embarrassingly   
  
incoherent, encouragement to the jerk's ears. His tongue licked   
  
at my flushed skin, each flick adding more heat churning at the   
  
center of my stomach. I reveled when his entire body stiffened   
  
when I luxuriously ground against his arousal.   
  
"Darien," my breathy voice whispered. My head turned   
  
to meet his, my lips desperate to receive that kiss I rejected.   
  
When he continued to suck at my neck, I managed to wrap my hands   
  
around his neck and impatiently tugged at his thick locks.   
  
Feeling his lips curve into a triumphant smirk, I arched against   
  
him again.  
  
"Damn it, Serena, knock that off," his hoarse voice   
  
cautioned me.  
  
"Knock off what?"  
  
"Don't act so innocent, you know exactly what you're   
  
doing."  
  
"Well, maybe if you got off of me, we wouldn't even be   
  
having this discussion!" I began to collect my threadbare dignity,   
  
piece by piece. It was pathetic that I had surrendered so easily,   
  
without a fight.   
  
  
Serena's dignity:0  
Darien's ego:1000  
  
  
"Maybe if you closed your mouth for just a second, you'd   
  
realize you're denying yourself.  
  
"Please, get over yourself, buddy." I tried to crane my   
  
head back to challenge him, but my head bumped against the crumbling   
  
brick wall. I settled on staring angrily at his broad chest,   
  
which, I later discovered, was an unwise choice because soon my   
  
fingers inched to unbutton his collared shirt and run my hands   
  
across his hard body.   
  
"Oh, so you weren't enjoying what just happened between us   
  
the tiniest bit?" Darien grinned lazily, brushing the pad of his   
  
thumb across my cheekbones.   
  
"I enjoyed it as much as a yeast infection," I spat back,   
  
hating how traitorous my body was to his touch. Chastely, he   
  
brushed a smile across my frowning lips.  
  
I clamped my mouth shut when his experienced hand caressed   
  
my hip, and then smoothly slip under my delicate pink, sleeveless   
  
tank top. Callused hands stroked the small of my back and toyed   
  
with the clasp of my bra. I lifted narrowed eyes to my seductive   
  
adversity, who was arrogantly grinning at me.   
  
"Get your hands out of there."  
  
"Out of where?" he purposefully probed, snapping one strap   
  
playfully.  
  
"Don't you dare!"  
  
"Don't I dare do what?" To goad me, his fingers tickled my   
  
rib cage, only a few inches from my heaving chest. I noticeably   
  
gulped, overwhelmed by the heady, lusty sensations as his fingers  
  
flitted across my rib cage and finally outlined the cup of my burgundy   
  
bra.  
  
"S...Stop."   
  
Grinning like the idiot he was, Darien leaned down to nuzzle   
  
my earlobe, nipping at it playfully. "For a woman who claims to hate   
  
my touch, you seem to respond pretty peculiarly," each breath brushed   
  
over my ear and sent shivers down my rigid spine.   
  
"You bastard."  
  
"I have to admire your spunk, Hughes. But it looks like I   
  
have to go, business meetings for the rest of the afternoon," easily,   
  
he stepped back and straightened his askew tie and charcoal dress   
  
jacket. Meanwhile, I donated every ounce of strength and steel will   
  
to stop myself from launching into his arms and begging for him to   
  
just finish the damn deed. The scoundrel used his most persuasive   
  
tactics of foreplay just to leave me hot and bothered while he   
  
gloated at his damn meetings of another to-be conquest.  
  
"Shame you're not attending the ballet. Perhaps another time,   
  
Hughes."  
  
Crack!  
  
  
[The half asleep crowd suddenly jolts awake as half crazed blonde   
slaps the calculating jerk sharply across his taut cheek]  
  
  
Serena's dignity:1  
Darien's ego:1000  
  
  
Hey, the scores were still laughable, but at least I redeemed   
  
myself somewhat. My enemy's face remained composed, as if oblivious   
  
to the reddening handprint stamped onto his smooth face. Inwardly,   
  
I did the most ridiculous jig and cartwheel. Very childish, in fact.  
  
Outwardly, I followed through on the "absolutely livid" act so thoroughly   
  
that I deserved an Academy.  
  
Eat your heart out, Susan Lucci.   
  
"You can bring one of your little groupies to that damn   
  
Nutcracker for all I care, Langston!"  
  
"Perfect, because I already had someone in mind."  
  
  
Annoying inner voice:WHAT?! Heh Heh…I mean…fine, whatever.  
  
  
Obviously, the man had slept with numerous women; they were   
  
either attracted to his disarming smile or old money. Certainly not   
  
his oh-so impressive personality, that was for certain. But the idea   
  
still ruffled my feathers, no matter how desperately I tried to squelch  
  
that rising jealously.   
  
"Good, and while you're at it, give her my sympathy!" snootily,   
  
I brushed past him, deliberately flipping my ponytail into his   
  
expressionless face.  
  
Have I mentioned that I utterly despised Darien Langston?  
  
  
Bad Serena:Amen to that!  
  
  
  
That night, I left the most articulate, intelligent message on   
  
Rei's answering machine.   
  
  
Here is a brief synopsis:  
  
  
I stormed into my house, knocking over a precious vase that my mother   
  
had given to me. Like the proud lady that I am, I tossed a pair of   
  
high heels and an ab-slider across the room, which had promised to   
  
tone my six pack of unrelenting flab. Wincing as I heard each item   
  
crash against the wall, I grabbed my cordless telephone and furiously   
  
dialed my former best friend's phone number.  
  
  
Answering machine:Hey, I'm not in right now, but just leave a   
  
brief message, and if I feel like it, I'll get back to you. Thanks.  
  
  
Beep!  
  
  
Me:Rei, I am so pissed right now that…I'm just so unbelievably   
  
pissed! How did such a STUPID idea float into that brain of yours?!   
  
I'm so pissed, you…stupid…face! Yeah, that's right, I just called you   
  
a stupid face! And no, I cannot think of a better insult off the top  
  
of my head! You better call back; I don't care how tired and bitchy   
  
you feel. If I don't receive a phone call in exactly 2.5 seconds, I   
  
will knock down your door and terrorize those damn birds of yours.   
  
Yes, I will turn those creatures into roasted vultures. And now I'm   
  
running out of threats, so I'm slamming my phone down!  
  
  
And that I did. Had I been in any other situation, I would   
  
have burst out into hysterical laughter. Unfortunately, I was in the   
  
foulest, unapproachable mood. Even if a damn solicitor arrived at my   
  
doorstep offering me a check for one million dollars I'd….well, I'd   
  
grab that check faster than a speeding bullet THEN slam the door in   
  
their face. Hey, I may be furious, but I wasn't stupid enough to   
  
reject money! Perhaps with that money I would devote an entire   
  
laboratory to creating the perfect lover.   
  
  
News at six o'clock:Same, crazy old maid is spotted roasting crows   
  
in her backyard while arguing with invisible forces on right and left   
  
shoulders.   
  
  
Ooo, the famous couple ALMOST kissed,  
but then again, almost doesn't count!  
Yes, yes, I'm cruel, but its so fun.  
Oh, um, I'm not sure if there really is   
a Tokyo Ballet Academy, I just made that  
up. If there is, then that is a strange  
coincidence. Anything else...nope, don't  
think so.  
  
Psst...email, review, email, review.  
You must understand, I thrive on these!   
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com 


	4. Chronicle Four

Hello, my dear readers. I'm back!  
Sorry about the little lapse, I  
went on vacation! You forgive me  
right? Good. Okay, well, part  
four is finally out. And I have  
to give much thanks to my great  
editor, Aurora Dream, for revising  
and proofreading my story. Thanks  
so much, Aurora! That thanks   
also extends to my loyal readers  
who took the time to email me.  
Okay, guys, hope you like this one.   
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com  
(an email would be nice ^_^)  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah right, like I  
own Sailor Moon. Ha. But, I  
do own this story.  
  
  
Chronicle Four  
  
  
Howling like an injured wolf, I tumbled out of my cluttered   
  
bed sheets and crawled to my bathroom. Normally, I am not reduced   
  
to such a sorry state of "Drama Queen," but it was that dreaded   
  
time of the month again, a week of unnecessary blood loss. It was   
  
amazing how a simple excretion of blood could trigger a perpetual   
  
storm cloud to loom above me, but lo and behold, I, Miss Sunshine,   
  
was as joyous as the Grinch on Christmas Day.   
  
The world screeched to a halt as I eagerly shook my trusty   
  
pink box and only one plastic wrapped tube rolled out onto my fist.   
  
Uncertain to whether the extreme loss of blood was causing me to   
  
hallucinate, I frantically waved the cardboard box around.   
  
Nothing.   
  
At that exact moment, I deduced that Fate was purposefully   
  
cruel to me. There must be heavenly deities high above who found   
  
my pitiful lack of luck extremely hilarious. They were probably   
  
rolling around on the clouds, laughing so hard that their sides   
  
hurt while I was sprawled out on my bathroom floor with one tampon   
  
left. Angrily casting the cardboard object across the room, I   
  
forced myself to my feet.  
  
"Be strong, Serena. Be the paragon for every strong woman."   
  
Hmm, that sounded like a fairly creative ad for a Secret deodorant   
  
commercial.  
  
It was time for Operation Feminine Overlord.  
  
Without an ounce of makeup, meaning no eyeliner, lip gloss,   
  
mascara, nada, I slipped on athletic sandals and trudged to my car.   
  
Listlessly, I glanced down at my wardrobe, realizing that I was   
  
still donning my favorite pair of smiley face boxers and a black   
  
T-shirt that flashed my six pack (of loose skin).  
  
  
Fashion Police:You, in those ridiculous shorts, pull over this   
  
minute.  
  
  
Shrugging at my comically unstylish reflection in the   
  
mirror, I decided not to pull over and change. Since the grocery   
  
store workers seen me in much worse get ups, I was fairly confident   
  
they could handle my pajamas. Plus, I reasoned, it was a quiet   
  
Sunday morning. Most people were just rousing from a rowdy Saturday   
  
night or dragging themselves to church. Aside from the menstruating   
  
blonde restocking in her supplies, who could possibly be awake?   
  
Cold air blew against me as I entered the market, getting   
  
the usual raised eyebrows from the workers. A few even waved   
  
enthusiastically at me. Unfortunately, I had caused quite a ruckus   
  
one time when I had tried to insert my cart into the extremely   
  
crammed cart disposal. I was too preoccupied with cursing colorfully   
  
and training all my energy into my cart to notice that the flimsy   
  
chain suddenly snapped, allowing an entire stream of accidents-on-  
  
wheels to rapidly escape. With my mouth open wide enough that a   
  
mutant fly would easily enter in and helpless tears rolling down   
  
my cheeks, I watched as the flood of carts began to cover the black   
  
asphalt, each one deliberately aiming for the priciest vehicle   
  
parked. Releasing a fierce battle cry, I began to sprint frantically   
  
across the parking lot, running in complete circles, zig-zags,   
  
squares, oblongs just to somewhat save my car insurance of   
  
the compiling bill. Probably thrown off by the strange gurgle   
  
that came out of my throat, customers and cart boys alike came out   
  
to witness "that crazy blonde woman" zooming back and forth across   
  
the parking lot. A few astute ones offered their assistance, and   
  
thank goodness only five out of the fifteen carts managed to lightly   
  
"tap" any scrap of metal. The cart boys had surrounded me, handing   
  
me tissues and candy, which slightly brightened my mood, but I was   
  
hoping that one would offer to cover the cost of the miniscule   
  
scratches. After that proud incident, I became an instant grocery   
  
star.   
  
From that moment, whenever I made my presence known, I   
  
noticed at least one cart boy would stand guard in the parking   
  
lot, the poor lad appointed to somehow prevent another situation   
  
from happening. Inject embarrassed sigh. I could hardly blame   
  
them. For the entirety of my life, Lady Luck acted quite indecent   
  
towards me.   
  
Yelping as my stomach clenched in another painful cramp,   
  
I scurried towards "women only" section, quickly seized a container   
  
of tampons, and scurried to the "less than 10 items" check out.  
  
"Good morning. How are you today?" I chirped, smiling   
  
into the face of the bubble gum chewing teenager. With an impatient   
  
toss of her pink ponytail, she gave me a "shove it, lady" look   
  
and wordlessly rang up my purchase.   
  
Well, wasn't she a precious bundle of joy this morning.   
  
I fiercely fought the temptation to reach over and tightly pinch   
  
one of her rouged cheeks like my overzealous, smooch ready   
  
grandmother. But upon zeroing in on the mounds of foundation   
  
layering on her skin, that temptation instantly died.  
  
"Four dollars and eighty-two cents," she sighed in a droll   
  
voice as she began to inflate her neon purple gum. Humming an   
  
old tune, I opened up my purse.   
  
And cursed. (I realize I really do need to do something   
  
about my potty mouth, ladies do not curse in public facilities!)  
  
"Heh…it seems to me that I forgot my money…," I fumbled.   
  
Miss Bundles of Joy popped her gigantic bubble, revealing a pair   
  
of rolling eyes and a scowling mouth. I wasn't sure exactly what   
  
gave me the ultimate hint, but I was beginning to believe that   
  
she was not a morning person. Perhaps it was the perpetual   
  
frown or murderous glower.   
  
"Here, I'll write you check." Never mind that it would   
  
be for four dollars and eighty-two cents.  
  
Deliberately sighing loudly, she pointed to the large   
  
sign boldly and brightly blinking 'Cash Only, Idiot.' Okay, the   
  
last adjective was added inside my head, but my already suffering   
  
ego felt no larger than my pinky toe.   
  
  
Annoying voice inside my head:Way to go, slick. You're on a roll   
  
today.   
  
  
I really hated that voice inside my head, I couldn't decide   
  
if it was my long dead Great Aunt Verna who came back to haunt   
  
me for purposefully slipping a toad into her soup at my ninth   
  
birthday party or simply my conscience. She couldn't still be   
  
angry with me; I thought I had been quite generous by not choosing   
  
the mutant frog. The voice resembled her in numerous ways: nagging,   
  
nasally, too outspoken, unwanted.  
  
"Do you accept Visa?"  
  
"No," was the flat, close to homicidal answer. Without a   
  
doubt, I was on this teenager's list of cherished customers.   
  
Dumping every item stored in my purse out onto the counter,   
  
(I reddened slightly when a moldy, half eaten doughnut from two   
  
months ago accidentally rolled out) I began to scrounge for pennies   
  
and nickels.   
  
"Hold on, two, four, six, and eight…"  
  
"Is there something the matter here?" a silky tenor questioned.   
  
Suddenly stopping mid count in my round up of shiny coins, (to my   
  
joy I had salvaged about two dollars in pennies) I twirled around   
  
and became scrunched face to broad chest with my worst enemy.   
  
Slowly, my gaze traveled over the wonderful expanse of his business   
  
jacket, flickered over annoyingly kissable lips twisted into a   
  
sardonic grin, and finally rested at breathing taking blue eyes.  
  
My damned, rebellious body, which never seemed to listen,   
  
squirmed in anticipation when he leaned forward and seductively   
  
whispered, "Good morning, Hughes." His intense, blue eyes slowly   
  
descended, and with an arrogant smirk, he added, "Sexy boxers, by   
  
the way."  
  
Of course, as Fate would schedule it, the day that I actually   
  
throw caution into the wind and sport my favorite pajamas, I confront   
  
the most agitating, gorgeous man in Tokyo. Of course! Unconsciously   
  
tugging the eye catching boxers down, I hoped to hide my wandering   
  
thoughts by a fierce frown. Is this how his latest sack session   
  
buddy, the one who replaced my seat at the ballet, was greeted in   
  
the mornings? What a lovely way to be woken up, two deliciously   
  
sensual lips only two millimeters from my mouth.   
  
WAIT! Rewind.  
  
This gorgeous Neanderthal was not a possible bedmate, I   
  
fervently reprimanded my racing heart.   
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, breathing   
  
fire as I glared angrily up at him. Attempting to appear menacing   
  
and unapproachable, I shook my fist at him, but that only caused   
  
the massive pile of pennies I held to disperse everywhere. One   
  
copper coin struck one, half-asleep gentleman smack dab at the   
  
center of his forehead, rousing him from his check out nap.   
  
Ducking my head, I bent down to hoard every sparkling piece of   
  
metal, all while nailing Darien with the most hateful expression.   
  
To be perfectly honest, I was not cross about the fact   
  
that the Armani clad bastard physically taunted me, chose not to   
  
accompany me to my favorite ballet, and then flaunted it in my   
  
humiliated face. No, no I was hardly cross.   
  
I was absolutely furious.   
  
And what further enraged me was the fact that it was   
  
extremely difficult for me to stop staring at his luscious,   
  
grinning mouth, which had been so cruelly close to kissing me.   
  
"Here, I'm sorry this lady did not have the right amount,"   
  
his dark head nodded at my growing collection of pennies, "but here   
  
is ten dollars to cover both of our purchases, and keep the change   
  
as a bonus for your patience." And with his heart melting grin to   
  
further soothe the tense moment, Miss Bundles of Joy accepted the   
  
bill with the most flirtatious, loving smile on her face.  
  
  
Question of the Day:Okay, am I the only woman residing in   
  
Tokyo who, regardless of age, is NOT bewitched by his overwhelming   
  
'mojo?'   
  
  
My fellow colleagues of the weaker sex are too susceptible,   
  
sometimes, almost shamefully susceptible. It only takes one, decent   
  
looking guy (Darien was downright gorgeous, but that was beside the   
  
point) to stroll by and BAM, hook, line and sinker…we're suddenly   
  
in love with this stranger. Of course, I do not exclude myself in   
  
this tendency, but at least I can point out a true, cocky bastard   
  
out of a crowd, such as Darien.   
  
"Look, I'm really sorry about this," I tried to offer,   
  
and instantly her radiant smile was gulped up by a vicious   
  
frown.   
  
"Whatever, lady."  
  
Oh no, this stick of a teenager, who probably did not need   
  
to worry about her expanding hips and stomach, did not just take   
  
that tone with me. Here I am, on the verge of shock because of my   
  
immense blood loss, while she was enjoying air conditioning and a   
  
(underserved) bonus!   
  
"Well...excuuuse me, miss, but I truly did not mean to come   
  
unprepared. I'm trying to apologize here...hey, will you let me   
  
go!"   
  
I found that my Hero from Hell had grabbed me by my collar   
  
and dragged me outside. Any attempts to swat and kick at him were   
  
futile, so I managed to throw in a few more fighting words at Bundles   
  
of Sunshine before her mutinous expression was out of my sight. I   
  
tried to dig my heels into the ground, but that only scuffed up my   
  
favorite pair of sandals, so I settled for waving dismally at the   
  
passing cart boys.  
  
"Can you explain to me why I have this tendency to run into   
  
you in the worst situations," Darien remarked when he finally released   
  
me in the parking lot, crossing his defined arms across his chest   
  
as he focused midnight blue eyes on me. Against my permission, my   
  
eyes wandered over the lovely breadth of his shoulders and the muscles   
  
pressing against his neatly ironed, button down dress shirt. Also   
  
against my will, I was bombarded with memories in the abandoned alley,   
  
his hard body pressing tightly against mine, his luscious lips running   
  
tantalizing paths across my face and sensitive neck...  
  
  
Bad Serena:Do it again, lover boy.  
  
Serena's Spider Senses:Due to sudden movement of hormones, body   
  
temperature is rapidly rising.   
  
Bad Serena:Oh, it's definitely getting hot out   
  
here!  
  
  
No! I could not allow myself to be distracted. As I   
  
squashed those intruding thoughts, I tried to concoct a witty   
  
response to his amused inquiry.   
  
"Uhh…," I stammered, licking my suddenly dry lips.  
  
No one ever said I was the sharpest tool in the shed, but   
  
I had always been proud of my slight ability to spar with Darien.   
  
How in the world could I possibly be quick on my feet when an image   
  
of Darien slowly unbuttoning my blouse while wetly kissing my   
  
collarbone and running his hands across my arching body would not   
  
leave my mind?  
  
"How the hell should I know, Einstein?" I was tempted to   
  
share my theory on his inherent radar that always managed to   
  
pinpoint me during an embarrassing situation, but because of my   
  
fear of ridicule and out-and-out laughter, I didn't.  
  
"Maybe Fate is trying to tell us something," he patiently   
  
suggested as he tucked a blonde cowlick behind my ear.   
  
Tartly slapping away his soothing touch, I grumbled, "Yeah,   
  
like to get a restraining order on you."   
  
"I'm very proud of you, it's not usual for women to react so   
  
swiftly when it's early in the morning and they're menstruating," he   
  
said, patting me on the head as he produced the pink box. He might   
  
have as well thrown a juicy steak in the midst of starving wolves…   
  
"Give me that!" I shouted, reaching for my cherished blood   
  
plugs.   
  
"Now, now, don't be greedy," grinned my sadistic adversary,   
  
dangling my precious babies above my head while I jumped up and   
  
earnestly attempted to retrieve them. Exploding into a fit of   
  
incoherent noises, I stamped my foot and seriously considered   
  
kicking his shins. It would be a low hit, but absolutely worth it.  
  
Clearly finding my sad efforts highly amusing, he tilted   
  
his head and maintained a solemn expression while he read the   
  
description, "For those heavy days. Oh, you poor thing, you must   
  
be quite desperate for these, huh?"  
  
"Desperate enough to attack anyone, or in your case,   
  
anything, that stands in my way!"  
  
"I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be scared or excited   
  
by that comment."  
  
"Like I would ever attack you on the basis of some weak   
  
sexual urge." To create the full effect of disgust and disbelief,   
  
I snorted (very unladylike, might I add) and rolled my eyes much   
  
like that blasted teenager inside, who was weighed down by the   
  
pounds of foundation on her face.   
  
"I was generous enough to lend you the necessary funds   
  
to purchase these items. Don't you think I deserve something?"  
  
"You make it sound like I just took out a massive  
  
loan. It was only ten dollars."  
  
"So ungrateful."  
  
"Since it looks like you're scraping by in those Armani   
  
suits, I'll be sure to reimburse you."  
  
"I certainly didn't have money in mind."  
  
  
Serena's Spider Senses:Warning, warning! Sexual favors could   
  
be asked in a matter of seconds.   
  
  
"Of course, how could I be so blind? I have something   
  
perfect in mind," I provocatively suggested, batting my eyelids as   
  
I playfully toyed with his forest green, silk tie (which ended a   
  
wee bit close to his belt line). His eyes intensely watching when   
  
I intentionally brushed one finger across his rippling stomach, I   
  
smiled slowly and seductively as I purred, "Bend over."   
  
I began to laugh evilly, after all, the man deserved more   
  
than a kick in the ass after his show of foreplay in the alley, when   
  
suddenly an iron grip closed on my flattened hand. He leaned forward,   
  
his nose barely touching mine, his proximity bombarding my senses.   
  
"I don't enjoy being teased, Hughes," he growled.  
  
"Funny, neither do I."  
  
"I wouldn't have to if you didn't deliberately provoke me."  
  
"Hey, I'm not the one who took the damn liberties to seduce   
  
me in an abandoned alley!"  
  
"So," he drawled enticingly as he rested his forehead against   
  
mine, "you admit you were seduced?"  
  
"Isn't that what I just said? Is your colossal ego making   
  
you hard of hearing?" I snapped, and instantly attempted to escape   
  
his pervading heat when I felt strong arms encircle my waist. Eyes   
  
narrowing threateningly, I glared daggers, no, gleaming swords, at   
  
the cad and rudely demanded that he release me before I sexually   
  
crippled him.   
  
"I just wanted to confirm the fact that you were seduced,   
  
because the word seduction entails that you enjoyed it."  
  
I chewed on my lip as I dug beneath his hogwash and translated   
  
his words into blonde language. In other words, I had liked his   
  
teasing touches and hot kisses. Well...DUH! But I'd rather be tied   
  
up and tickled to death than ever admit to that arrogant bastard that   
  
if he hadn't taken control of the situation, I would have clubbed him   
  
over the head and drug him to my bed. Although, the thought of Darien  
  
helpless struck me quite appealing...  
  
Extreme blood loss combined with a pathetic lack of sex was   
  
transforming me into a freak obsessed with kinky handcuffs and underwear   
  
for two. I really needed to get out more, maybe allow myself to fall   
  
victim to more blind dates.   
  
"At least I know I can affect you somehow, ice princess," he   
  
murmured, running his thumb across my extremely sensitive hip bone.   
  
His drop dead gorgeous face was softened by an expression completely   
  
foreign for a narcissistic jerk like Darien: uncertainty. This left   
  
me momentarily stunned, because whenever he made passes at me before,   
  
he exuded absolute smoothness. In the midst of my pondering, I had   
  
somehow forgotten that I was in the arms of my worst enemy. I had   
  
absolutely no clue how, or even why, when I fiercely reminded myself   
  
that I did not enjoy his touch. My hormones did.  
  
"Can we return to the main issue of this stupid conversation?"  
  
"What was the main issue?"  
  
Good question. Common sense was gradually leaking out of my   
  
brain as Darien deliberately ran a lazy circle on the arch of my back   
  
with his pointer finger. I couldn't permit this womanizing Adonis to   
  
distract me; I had to clear the hazy fog clouding my brain.   
  
"Didn't I kindly ask you to let me go?"  
  
"Kindly? Isn't that stretching it?   
  
"When dealing with you, etiquette is never high on my list of   
  
priorities."   
  
"Ouch, I'm hurt by that statement."  
  
"Let me go, Langston."  
  
"And if I don't?"  
  
"You won't like the consequences," my voice dripped venomous   
  
sweetness.  
  
"Try me...damn it, Hughes!" immediately, he complied with my   
  
orders and hopped around on one expensive, Italian leather shoe while   
  
holding one, bruised limb. Yes, I had hopped off my pedestal of honor   
  
and soundly kicked at his shins. I should have felt guilty, horrible;   
  
instead, satisfaction gripped me as I cackled wickedly and clapped. No   
  
one, not even the untouchable Darien, was permitted to shred my ego to   
  
smithereens and escaped! I was invincible! I was unstoppable! I was...   
  
"Serena Diana Hughes!" a powerful voice suddenly shattered my   
  
victory.  
  
Shit. There was only one person who could make me cringe with   
  
a simple alteration of their voice. Gulping loudly, I turned away from   
  
the sputtering, cursing man and faced the most formidable force ruling   
  
my life.  
  
"Hi, Mom," I innocently smiled and affectionately kissed her   
  
cheek. Too cultured and hardened in my ways to be tricked by my   
  
Shirley Temple act, she placed her hand on her hips, an all too familiar   
  
motherly pose, and pointed to my enemy.  
  
"Spare me, honey. Why did you just kick that young man?"  
  
"Young man? Where?"  
  
"Serena!"  
  
"Oh! That young man!" I turned towards Darien, stepping   
  
backwards as if utterly shocked to discover a good looking businessman   
  
bending down to inspect the rising welt on his shins. I pressed my   
  
lips together to avoid from laughing at his concentrated expression.   
  
"Are you all right, honey?" my dear, unknowing mother   
  
questioned.   
  
"I'm fine, just taken by surprise, that's all."  
  
"My Serena never did grow out of her kicking stage." Mother   
  
Dearest lifted a questioning brow when she noted my apparel.   
  
Before she could throw in a few insults, I hastily interjected.   
  
"Yes, I know I am wearing smiley face boxers, Mom. And I grew   
  
out of it just fine, thank you."  
  
"Ahh, so you are the beautiful Mrs. Hughes. A pleasure to meet   
  
you," the jerk massaged his sore shin before turning his charm to   
  
'Impress the Mother' level. Critically eyeing him, I noted that his   
  
smile grew brighter, his posture was straighter, and his handshake   
  
gentler, yet firm. I had the distinct sensation that he had memorized   
  
and practiced this act with astounding precision and accuracy.   
  
"What a charmer! What's your name, again, young man?"  
  
"Darien Langston."  
  
"Yes, I remember you. You dated Rei a while back ago?"  
  
"Yes, we're still good friends now."  
  
"I've heard a few, unpleasant stories about you from my   
  
daughter. I was imaging an ogre, but you're the complete opposite!"   
  
my mother, another victim to his mojo, remarked incredulously.  
  
"That's good to hear. But I can only imagine the stories   
  
you have heard about me. Your daughter and I have an interesting   
  
relationship."  
  
"By interesting he means deranged and murderous," I quipped.  
  
Pointedly ignoring my snide comment, my mother crossed her   
  
arms and questioned, "When I last heard about you, I heard you were   
  
climbing the ranks in your father's company."  
  
"With help from daddy, no doubt." In response to my   
  
impressive show of wit, my mother rewarded me with her ever deadly,   
  
paralytic, 'You-better-behave-or-else' stare. It was a look that   
  
still possessed enough poison to make me nearly pee in my pants, and,   
  
probably during my younger years, did.   
  
"Yes, it helps to have a father who left a huge legacy in   
  
business, but I've been working hard so I'm not another one of   
  
those spoiled, pampered brats."  
  
"That must be difficult, I'm sure there's much speculation   
  
and gossiping."   
  
I tilted my head when my mother concernedly remarked this,   
  
Icould have sworn her hooded gaze swung over to me.   
  
"Of course there is, but it all comes with the job."  
  
"It's all a façade, Mom. Don't believe a word he says,"   
  
I stated, crossing my arms as I glowered into his lop sided smile.   
  
My fuming a clear source of amusement to him, Darien winked   
  
engagingly at me.   
  
"That's true, you never know with men." She gazed sharply  
  
at his ruggedly striking face, measuring every aspect of his   
  
appearance with a critical eye. "But there's something about this man   
  
that I like."  
  
Great, within five minutes, the bastard managed to win over   
  
my tougher than nails mother, a feat that past boyfriends never   
  
managed to accomplish, especially after suffering daddy dear's   
  
pee-inducing interrogations. Have I mentioned that my darling father   
  
used to be a hardened Marine officer?   
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes." As if it were an everyday matter,   
  
he slipped a strong arm around me, his palm resting on my tense bicep.   
  
Flinching at the electricity when he casually massaged my muscles, I   
  
instantly attempted to leap away, but found myself soundly pressed   
  
against his muscular side. Although my bony elbows jabbed against his   
  
ribs, he continued to smile warmly at my beaming mother. "I have a   
  
question to ask you: do you think I am Serena's type?"  
  
"You jerk! Mom, if you love me, you will not answer that   
  
question!" I fumed, clamping onto her arm as I feverishly shook   
  
her petite frame. She rattled for a few moments, extricated   
  
herself from my death grip, and thoughtfully responded.  
  
In my unbiased opinion, there was no need for thought or   
  
cautiousness. The answer was QUITE obvious: absolutely not!   
  
Couldn't my mother see right through his pretty boy smile and   
  
equally pretty clothes to see he was a womanizer? He was one of   
  
those types of guys who sat around at the country club gatherings,   
  
bragging about his latest conquests, comparing how quickly it took   
  
to lead the poor lamb to the slaughterhouse, otherwise known as   
  
his love shack.   
  
"To tell you the truth, honey, I'm not sure. Why don't   
  
you ask Serena?"  
  
"I can't believe we're having this conversation! I am   
  
taking this opportunity to walk away before I say anything that   
  
will make my mom slap me upside the head," I sulked, casting dark   
  
glances at my opposing parties. Once again, Darien's oh so   
  
overwhelming sex appeal had managed to confuse even the sharpest  
  
mind in Tokyo, my own mother. She had become another traitor,   
  
added to the list of my EX best friends.  
  
Just as I inserted the key into my sputtering piece of   
  
junk that I lovingly referred to as my car, supple lips brushed   
  
against my extremely sensitive ear lobe, "You're acting childish,   
  
Hughes."  
  
Shrieking as I jumped a mile in the air, I whirled around   
  
and found myself alarming close to his pinstriped, gray suit.   
  
My mother had already disappeared into the market, leaving me alone   
  
to fend off the unwanted advances of this stubborn Neanderthal.   
  
How could she?!  
  
"Watch yourself, Langston," I viciously snapped, but   
  
instantly softened my voice as my eyelashes fluttered alluringly,   
  
"unless you want me to add another welt to the lovely one already   
  
growing on your shins."  
  
Darien's eyes darkened to near midnight as he pressed   
  
his hard length fully against me and raised his elbows on either   
  
side of my head. Although I tried to remind myself how utterly   
  
outraged I should be, I instantly felt light headed and weak   
  
limbed when I felt every damn ripple and muscle bunch against me.   
  
Two hands gripped my buttocks and brought me impossibly closer to   
  
him, making me suddenly aware of his growing arousal. At that  
  
moment, any smart ass comments decomposed to whimpers. My head   
  
fell back against my car, exposing my neck to his hot, wet kisses.   
  
"S-Stop..." came my daunting command.   
  
"I will, Hughes, once you answer my question."  
  
"What question?" The atmosphere was growing so unbearably   
  
hot.  
  
"Am I your type?"  
  
He paused mid-kiss, his heavenly lips still against the   
  
curve of my neck while he waited for my answer.  
  
"What was your question again?"   
  
I felt his mouth form into a satisfied smirk at my inability   
  
to formulate and process words. Collecting a few figments of   
  
intelligence, I listened intently to his inquiry.   
  
"Am I?  
  
"Are you what?  
  
Growing frustrated with my stupidity, he paused and   
  
impatiently restated, "Your type?"  
  
"What's it to you?" I saucily shot back when he lifted his   
  
head to steadily gaze at me.  
  
"Because you sure as hell are my type."  
  
Suddenly angry myself for easily giving in to his   
  
intoxicating touch and just as easily forgetting how he carelessly   
  
cast me aside in the alley, I pushed at his chest and shouted out   
  
whatever comment my trusty brain managed to concoct.   
  
"Oh really? I always thought your taste dipped into the   
  
inflatable type!"  
  
  
Serena's dignity:2 (up from 1)  
Darien ego:1000  
  
  
News at six o'clock:Residents spot a seemingly sane,   
  
striking businessman hollering about inflatable sheep and a   
  
painful revenge while chasing after shrieking blonde down   
  
Taichi's Boulevard.   
  
  
  
Gotta love Serena's sass, just gotta.  
Well, there was part four. What's in  
store for our heroine? Who knows, its   
up to my muse. Email me or critique   
and tell me what you think.  
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com  
  
P.S. Oh, I just made up Taichi's Boulevard  
off the top of my head. If it happens  
to be a real street, what a coincidence! 


	5. Chronicle Five

I'm back! So sorry about the wait,  
my schedule has suddenly gotten very  
busy with my classes and such, so   
please, bear with me here! Okay,  
here's the latest addition of  
Serena's charmed life, I hope  
you like it!  
  
Thanks to: My editor, Aurora Dream,  
who manages to make time for my   
story. ^_^  
  
Thanks to: My readers! All of you!  
You guys keep me going (along with  
plenty of caffeine).   
  
Disclaimer: Last time I checked,  
I did not own Sailor Moon. I'll  
check again...nope, definitely not.  
But I do claim rights to this story,  
so hands off!   
  
More notes await at the end of the  
story!  
  
  
Chronicle Five  
  
  
"You did not say that to him!" exclaimed Rei, her striking   
  
violet eyes rounder than saucers, her painted mouth covered by a   
  
trembling hand.   
  
"You're damn right I did!" I smacked the table as I exploded   
  
into a fit of coarse laughter. Propping myself on my right elbow, I   
  
silenced momentarily to recollect the absolute shock slapped across   
  
his once smug face. Unfortunately, my victory had been short lived,   
  
because instantly, I found myself being chased around my trusty   
  
vehicle. Finally abandoning the thought of strangling me, he placed   
  
the pink box on the hood of my car, stalked to his Lexus SUV, revved   
  
the engine, and sped out of the parking lot. His expression had   
  
closed off any further display of emotions, leaving me disappointed,  
  
and damn it, a bit guilty.  
  
And to think that the original reason for this fiasco all   
  
began because of a woman's bodily wounds!   
  
But that expression, it was priceless, a Kodak moment that   
  
should be encapsulated for eternity!   
  
Laughter erupted out of me again, this time causing me to   
  
miscalculate the table and plunge directly out of my seat. The navy   
  
blue carpet definitely wasn't installed for hysterically laughing   
  
blondes, I noted, as I soundly smacked against the floor. Crushed   
  
between my body and carpet, my upturned nose suddenly felt flatter   
  
than a smashed pancake. After a good ten minutes, I crawled back   
  
into my seat, my teeth firmly attached to my lip to quell future   
  
urges. Once my vision cleared from the steaming tears, I was kindly   
  
greeted by four, menacing scowls. Mina gripped her fork threateningly   
  
while Rei reached for an old charm hidden in her purse. I almost   
  
darted out of the Arcade when I spotted Lita crack her knuckles   
  
and Ami search through a massive chemistry textbook for the right   
  
poison. Suddenly, in the face of an agonizing death, Darien's   
  
expression wasn't so downright hilarious.   
  
"Oh, come on, it was funny!" That was their unspoken cue   
  
to laugh.   
  
"It was not, Serena! The poor guy was putting himself out   
  
on the line!" rebuked Mina, her grip dangerously tightening around   
  
her fork. Eyeing her movements nervously, I smiled soothingly while   
  
slowly inching my seat away from the table. My friends would never   
  
follow through their death threats, but they would settle to maim   
  
me, something that did not appeal to me either.  
  
"He was not!"  
  
"Yes, he was! I don't think you realize the extent of   
  
his question," my priestess comrade fumed, her charm fluttering   
  
a bit too close to my forehead for comfort.   
  
"This is ridiculous! He was just baiting me, like he   
  
usually does."  
  
"But the fact that he didn't respond with his usual,   
  
sarcastic remarks signifies something," quietly interjected Ami,   
  
still calmly leafing through her volume on how to dispel stupidity   
  
from blondes.  
  
"You might have hurt his feelings," Lita slowly proposed.  
  
"Clearly, the jerk had never had a female take his sarcastic   
  
comments and throw it right back in his face."  
  
"Or…you hurt his feelings."  
  
"I did not hurt Darien's feelings! For heaven's sake, I think   
  
a thirty three year old man can handle a few negative comments!"  
  
"You did too, Meatball Head!"  
  
"Take that back, Rei! I haven't had a meatball bun in ages!"  
  
"Not until you apologize to Darien!"  
  
"I believe that since you four are supposed to be MY friends,   
  
you should be encouraging Darien to apologize to me!"  
  
"Darien is our friend, too. News check, I did date the man at   
  
one time!" Rei wildly waved her hands.   
  
Burying my head into my folded arms to avoid being clobbered   
  
by her tightened fist and paper talisman, I peeked out of a narrowed,   
  
sapphire eye and cried, "You still have feelings for him, don't you?"  
  
"And if I did?"  
  
"Well…well," my brain fumbled, suffering a heavy attack from   
  
that ferocious, fire breathing green dragon called Jealously, "then   
  
you're a stupid face!"  
  
"Oh, very mature, Meatball Head."  
  
"You're still a stupid face, Pyromaniac! And at least I didn't   
  
burn down the temple because of some obsession with fire!"  
  
"Excuse me, but I did not burn down the temple!"  
  
"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to exaggerate. Had the fire truck   
  
not arrived in time, the temple would have burned down!"  
  
When we were teenagers, Rei had decided that in order to   
  
become one with the spirits, the flames used for the fire reading   
  
must, the exact phrase she used was, 'roar like a lion.' Unfortunately,   
  
with Rei's frustrated cursing and my panicked attempts to smother the   
  
fire with her grandfather's favorite broom, it immediately spread.   
  
A visitor, hoping for a charm and few inspirational words, managed   
  
to contact the fire department just in time. I, being the excellent   
  
friend that I am, never allowed Rei to forget her greatest moment of   
  
brilliance.   
  
"Girls, you're drawing attention," nervously observed Ami,   
  
turning a slight shade of pink when more than a few heads turned to   
  
stare at the sharp tongued ex-priestess and fair old maid in the far   
  
left corner.   
  
"I'm not the one who's repressing my urges!"  
  
"You should be proud of me, if I wasn't repressing my urges,   
  
Darien would be suffering multiple black eyes and broken ribs!"  
  
"Wow, she's that rough in bed?" murmured Lita, playfully   
  
jabbing a giggling Mina with a devious gleam in her emerald eyes.   
  
"I heard that!"  
  
"Look, Meatball Head—," my raven locked friend impatiently   
  
began.  
  
"I would appreciate it if you refrained from using that   
  
nickname," I interjected through gritted teeth.  
  
"—I have no significant feelings for Darien, we definitely   
  
weren't meant to be together. In the end, I felt like I was dating   
  
my brother, which struck me gross in an incestuous way. Still, he's   
  
very important to me."  
  
Guilt dominating my emotions, I determinedly kept my gaze   
  
onto my second, bacon double cheeseburger. Inject sigh. Last night,   
  
while I was happily shoveling my mother's leftover cherry pie into   
  
my mouth, I began bemoaning over the excess blubber lining my body.   
  
Thus, I stood up in the middle of my kitchen and verbally expressed   
  
my decision to embark on a journey. A diet journey. Unfortunately,   
  
it lasted for a whopping exactly thirteen hours, seven minutes, and   
  
twenty-six seconds. But, back to the dratted present…   
  
  
Good Serena: Maybe you overstepped the boundaries a wee bit.  
Bad Serena: Boundaries? Hell, boundaries are meant to be crossed!  
  
  
Growling agitatedly, I glared at both my shoulders, conjuring   
  
images of a devilish host donning tacky red leather and an angel   
  
wildly waving a golden harp. Unconsciously, I swiped both shoulders,   
  
the physical gesture mentally booting the bickering mentors to their   
  
respective quarters. Watching my unexplained actions, Rei lifted a   
  
delicate brow and nudged a staring Ami, who jabbed a puzzled Mina,   
  
who, in turn, incessantly poked a gaping Lita.  
  
"Warding off killer dandruff, Meatball Head?" my dark maned   
  
friend questioned, repressing any hint of laughter in her flashing,   
  
violet eyes.   
  
"Actually, I was trying to get rid of those damn voices in my   
  
head."  
  
That irritated slip earned me an embarrassing silence of blank   
  
staring and uneasy coughing. Pinkness coloring my cheeks, I loudly   
  
pounded on our customary table with a tightened fist, trying to   
  
capture their fazed attentions.   
  
"Remember, Serena, you must never listen to those voices in   
  
your head, no matter how appealing they appear to be," sincerely   
  
cautioned Ami, laying a comforting hand on my arm.  
  
"Oh, for Pete's sake, I'm not crazy!"  
  
"Would it make you feel better if we used the term 'mentally   
  
disturbed?'"  
  
"Ami, I do not need your politically correct, PhD condolences.   
  
Can we please stop digressing?"  
  
"Yes, we should stop digressing. You are going to apologize   
  
to Darien as soon as possible!" the dependably overbearing bore named   
  
Rei ordered.  
  
"I'm a twenty nine year old spinster; you can't make me do   
  
anything I want, Pyromaniac!"  
  
"The girls and I refuse to talk to you until the deed is   
  
finished."  
  
"What? This is ludicrous, childish!" After surviving several,   
  
painful seconds of deadly glares, I balked. "And you guys are absolutely   
  
serious!"  
  
"Would you ladies like anything else?" the ever perky waitress   
  
suddenly skipped over to our table. Growling something how her generous   
  
chest did not seem to be affected by age and gravity, I took a refreshing   
  
sip of my water.   
  
"Miss, would you kindly tell my…acquaintance, Serena, that if   
  
she cherishes her friendship, she will do as I say," coolly requested   
  
Rei, refusing to even glance in my direction. At her backward favor,   
  
I, overcome by utter shock, coughed and squirted every droplet of   
  
liquid in my mouth across the table. I sputtered stupidly when serene   
  
Ami calmly wiped a bead of already gargled water from her cheek and   
  
wrung out her damp, shoulder length locks. At that moment, with her   
  
indigo eyes beginning to burn two, immense holes into my face, it   
  
became painfully apparent how terrifying my seemingly tranquil   
  
friend was. When her slender fingers reached into her satchel, I   
  
was afraid she'd knock me unconscious an awe-inspiring textbook as   
  
thick as my waist. Instead, she produced another tissue, used to   
  
blot out the clear drops sprayed across her face.  
  
"Ditto," her quiet voice, underlined with steel, added.   
  
"Miss, the lady said that if you cherish your friendship––,"   
  
Perky by Nature solemnly began.  
  
"She's sitting right across from me, I heard her just fine,   
  
thank you!" I seethed, annoyed at Rei's ridiculous behavior.  
  
"Okay, whew, I really didn't want to get involved anyway! Can   
  
I get you a refill?"  
  
After my amazing water works show, thanks to Ami, I was   
  
hesitant to even take the tiniest sip of water. "No, thanks."  
  
Conversation dwindled when I continued to carry on, acting   
  
like I was oblivious to the four pointed looks aimed sharply at me.   
  
Eventually, I was overcome with fierce agitation, one because it was   
  
fairly difficult for me to go for five minutes without uttering a   
  
word, and two, I hated fighting with my friends, even though their   
  
mule-like stubbornness frustrated me to no end.  
  
"Damn it, you four are acting unfair!" I pounded my fist on   
  
the table, the half masticated, cheeseburger attractively rolling   
  
around in my mouth. When they didn't respond to my cry, I passionately   
  
continued, "I can't give up my pride like that! Darien acted like a   
  
Class One Jerk a week ago, and if his ego was slightly wounded by my   
  
comments, he deserved it! How can you so easily excuse what he did   
  
to me, but carp at me for one, sarcastic remark?"  
  
y angelic host floated down from her heavenly quarters and   
  
patted me on the shoulder.   
  
  
Good Serena: You're on a roll, girlfriend!   
  
  
Damn right, I was.   
  
"Go ahead, Rei, she's waiting for an answer," Lita urged.  
  
"Why don't you answer her?" she fixed a stern/pleading stare   
  
on the withdrawing Lita.  
  
"I believe you could word it much more eloquently than I."  
  
"Fine! Wimp. Look, maybe I'm just a little bit overprotective   
  
of Darien, after all, I do consider him a brother."  
  
"And what am I, chopped liver?" I cried, though I hated comparing   
  
myself to that poor disguise of cat food. I remember one time when dearest   
  
Aunt Verna forced me to clear a small portion of that brownish muck.   
  
Each gulp was accompanied by tears and excessive gagging.  
  
"Hell no!" Rei leaned forward with a small smile, "You're closer   
  
than a sister to me, Serena."  
  
"So…there's not the tiniest part of you that still considers   
  
Darien boyfriend material?"  
  
"Oh, I definitely do consider Darien boyfriend material."  
  
"I see," my voice faltered.   
  
Flashing me a cheeky grin, she said, "Boyfriend material for   
  
somebody else, that is."  
  
"Oh!" I smiled, feeling quite stupid that such a comment could   
  
lift my spirits.   
  
"But I still consider him a very close friend, and I just didn't   
  
appreciate that comment."   
  
"So, I don't have to apologize to Darien?"  
  
"Wrong, you both will apologize to each other."  
  
"But, I'm not sorry for what I said!"  
  
"You're not?" queried Ami, her damnably inquisitive eyes lifted.   
  
"Well…."  
  
"You are."  
  
"Maybe a little bit. That's not the point! Darien didn't regret   
  
what he did to me. I bet all the good boys at the country club know   
  
about his fiasco!" wailed I, horrified at the thought of at least a   
  
dozen, good looking men dressed in expensive golf attire booming with   
  
laughter while the scoundrel related his story of seduction.   
  
Picturing this, I was about to retract my confession to guilt   
  
when I heard the girls' vivacious laughter.   
  
"Look, you trust me, right?" I bobbed my head. Rei continued,   
  
"Thought so. Darien isn't the monster you paint him to be."  
  
"Yeah, right. Then explain his undying need to make my life a   
  
living hell," I snorted before taking another gulp of water.  
  
"He likes you."  
  
I do believe my eyes leapt from their sockets. Ami, sensing my   
  
urge to spit my water out, hid herself behind her linen napkin. Luckily,   
  
I managed to painfully force the large swig down my throat. "What?!"   
  
"Oh, he doesn't just like you. He wants to do the do the bedroom   
  
flamenco with you. Badly, senorita," giggled Mina, snapping her fingers   
  
and tossing her golden locks while crying out 'arriba!' in a poorly   
  
accented voice. In spite of her corniness, I succumbed to the rising   
  
giggles at Mina's seated attempts to dance. She was an odd one; her   
  
quirkiness and randomness definitely threw the ever serious Malachite   
  
into a loop. But, in spite of their differences, they made such an   
  
adorable couple, and I couldn't help but to covet after their   
  
relationship.  
  
"Sure, sure, whatever. Look, let's not ruin the moment by getting   
  
a bit too whimsical."  
  
"You think I exaggerate, Serena? I've seen the way Darien looks   
  
at you, hell, we all have."  
  
"Let me explain my relationship with Darien. It's elementary,   
  
my dear. Darien enjoys getting me riled, and he knows, with my lack of   
  
experience, that sexual jokes get me flustered."  
  
"There is a major flaw in this elementary explanation," Lita   
  
observed.  
  
"No there isn't."  
  
"Oh yes, there is. If you had no interest in Darien, then you   
  
would be repulsed by his sexual jokes."  
  
"Who says I'm not?"  
  
"Don't even try to lie, we have been friends for far too long   
  
for you to even try to such an underhanded trick."  
  
"Fine! He is a decent looking guy, and who wouldn't be a bit   
  
flustered if a decent looking guy cracked a few tainted jokes."  
  
"Decent looking?" persisted Ami in disbelief.  
  
I threw my hands into the air in surrender. "Damn it! Fine! He  
  
is absolutely gorgeous!"  
  
"Who is absolutely gorgeous?"  
  
Instantly, five heads swiftly whipped around towards the newest   
  
intruder, someone who I pleasantly referred to as Class One Jerk.   
  
My brain was suddenly unable to send intelligence waves to my   
  
mouth, therefore, I was forced to stammer a dumbfounded, "You!"  
  
"Me? I'm flattered that you find me so attractive."  
  
"Get over yourself, pretty boy," I snorted. "I didn't mean you   
  
like, 'I find *you* attractive. I meant you like, 'You! Get off my   
  
planet!'"  
  
"Oh? So, exactly who were you talking about?" he silkily   
  
questioned, disregarding my rudeness.   
  
"I could let you know…but then again, that's none of your   
  
business."  
  
"I still believe you were lusting over me."  
  
For a moment, I couldn't respond with that knowing gleam in   
  
his midnightblue eyes. Deliberately, his gaze hotly dropped to my   
  
mouth, lazily inspecting every glossy curve. My fist clenched, due   
  
to both frustration and barely contained longing. I sat rigidly,   
  
assaulted by steamy memories of his toned body pressed indecently   
  
close to mine, and that mouth, (oh that mouth) kissing my neck.   
  
It was decided; there was too much sexual prowess injected into   
  
that man, thus transforming him into a walking heartbreak. And, at  
  
my withering age of twenty nine going on fifty, I did not need   
  
another heartbreaker in my life. I needed, quite desperately,   
  
Mr. Right.  
  
So tell that to my hormones, raging rampantly over this   
  
gorgeous male specimen.   
  
"Joining us during your lunch break?" inquired Rei after a   
  
moment of tense silence.  
  
"Just for a few moments. I'm meeting somebody here."  
  
"Business colleague of yours?" Ami curiously probed.  
  
"I suppose," he wolfishly grinned.  
  
"A date?!" I shouted, surprise etched across my face.  
  
"I know the thought surprises you, but sometimes I grow tired   
  
with my inflatable dolls and sheep," solemnly replied Darien, gazing   
  
squarely into my eyes. Egads, I assumed that he forgot that eventful   
  
morning, then again, my blinding, smiley face boxers are impossible   
  
to overlook. My loving friends were of no help, barely suppressing   
  
snickers and quiet giggles. I eyed them warningly.  
  
"Speaking of which, Serena has something to tell you," Rei   
  
quickly recovered.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
"Yes, you do," she accentuated each syllable with a sound   
  
kick under the table.  
  
"He has to go first!"  
  
"Might I ask what you ladies are talking about?"  
  
"I decided that there should be a double apology for Serena's   
  
comment about your obsession with inflatable items and your   
  
obnoxiousness, Darien."  
  
"Are you serious? You're never going to get that stubborn   
  
donkey to apologize!"  
  
"Who you calling an ass, ass?" I flung back, proud of my   
  
splendid play on words.  
  
"See?"  
  
"Look, Serena will apologize."  
  
"I don't want her to apologize if she doesn't feel that she   
  
should."  
  
"Huh?" stunned, Rei and I chorused in together.  
  
"We were both unruly to each other, as usual. No need for   
  
apologies, don't you agree, Miss Hughes?"   
  
"I completely, and utterly, agree!"   
  
  
News Flash: This just coming in! Serena Hughes and her worst enemy   
actually agreeing on something! Such a possibility has left scholars   
and mathematicians dumbfounded!   
  
  
"But…but…I wanted you two to make up!"  
  
"And make out," whispered Mina to a grinning Ami, a bit too   
  
loud for my preference.   
  
"I wouldn't object to the making out bit," he chuckled,   
  
winking at me while I switched glowers between my nearly extinct   
  
friends and Darien.  
  
"What about it, then? One kiss to be sure that everything is   
  
smoothed over."  
  
"I don't think a kiss is really needed," I nervously reasoned.   
  
"Oh, come on, Serena, one kiss is nothing!"  
  
Meanwhile, my beloved enemy, with his arms sexily crossed over   
  
his broad chest, tilted his head, challenging me with a slight lift of   
  
his eyebrows.  
  
"Good grief, you guys are worse than phone solicitors. Fine,   
  
one kiss, on the cheek."  
  
"Yay!"  
  
Straightening, I slowly approached my awaiting adversary,   
  
reminding myself that it was simply an innocent kiss on the cheek.   
  
It'd be no more difficult than kissing my nephew, or my grandmother.   
  
Yet, somehow, I couldn't picture Darien donning Grandma Hughes   
  
flowered cap.   
  
"Are you going to stand there all day, admiring me?"  
  
I snapped out my reverie quicker than an offensive lineman   
  
snapped the ball to the quarterback. Narrowing my eyes, I rose on my   
  
tip-toes, thanking myself for wearing my three inch, black heels, and   
  
simply hovered agonizingly close to his lips. Those wicked, wonderful   
  
lips, that easily reduced me to jello in the alleyway, in the grocery   
  
parking lot, were begging to be kissed. As if in a daze, I watched   
  
as they tightened and moved to demand, "Damn it, Hughes. Just get   
  
it over with."  
  
Surprised, I abruptly lifted my gaze, no doubt reflecting my   
  
carnal lust, and, actually, drowned in his darkening, blue orbs.   
  
Impatience glittered, but directly beneath that, all encompassing   
  
heat.   
  
At that moment, I actually realized that my hand lay on his   
  
forearm, for support, of course, and that my heaving chest was   
  
brushing against his. Scolding myself for prolonging this preposterous   
  
request, I quickly pecked his cheek. As I turned away, he huskily   
  
muttered, "Tease." I decided not to respond, it would probably   
  
escalate into something that required the manager tossing me out   
  
of the Arcade.   
  
Clearing my throat, I took a cooling sip of water, pointedly   
  
ignoring Rei's excited kicks beneath the table, Mina's sly winks,   
  
Ami's twitching mouth, and Lita's wiggling eyebrows.  
  
"See, now wasn't that easy?" Lita finally shattered the   
  
silence.   
  
"As cake," I mustered with a false façade of courage.   
  
Hastily glancing in his direction, I caught sight of his composed   
  
expression, although it was slightly shadowed by some unknown   
  
emotion.  
  
"Darien!"  
  
  
Serena's Spider Senses: Brain does not register that voice.  
  
  
Neither did my senses, as a luscious, artificially enhanced   
  
redheaded rampaged towards our table. She was his business colleague,   
  
this ridiculously uxom twit?  
  
  
Bad Serena: Holy cow, are those things real, or did she stuff watermelons into   
her brassiere?  
  
  
Jealously, I tried to figure that out myself. Her rack nearly   
  
smacked against her face as she bound towards Darien, dramatically   
  
threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her fire engine red lips   
  
against his, the exact spot where I had fervently wished to. The scene   
  
was directly out of a corny, romance movie, I cynically noted as I   
  
reached for my barf bag.   
  
I glanced down at my own decently sized chest, certain that I   
  
just shrank a cup size.   
  
"Hello," she spared a cool greeting. The girls politely   
  
replied, while I stared obviously at the red leech firmly attached   
  
to his arm.   
  
"Beryl, this is Lita, Mina, Rei, Ami, and Serena." Was there   
  
a slight twinge of sarcasm when he introduced me, or was that ugly   
  
green dragon causing me to hallucinate? "We'll be leaving now, we   
  
have reservations downtown."  
  
"Okay, nice meeting you," waved Mina.  
  
"We wouldn't want to intrude," Beryl airily commented, one,   
  
thin eyebrow lifting in disdain as I proceeded to shove my extremely   
  
fatty, but oh-so mouth watering cuisine, into my mouth to stop myself   
  
from muttering anything impolite.   
  
  
Ringmaster: Hurry, hurry! Come see Serena's best show of manners as   
she shoves an entire bacon double cheeseburger into her mouth!  
  
  
"You sure? The food here is great," Lita smiled persuasively.   
  
"No, thank you, fast food is far too…fattening and greasy. Does   
  
horrible things to a woman's waist."   
  
"This isn't fast food," my ever direct priestess comrade clipped.  
  
"Perhaps to you."  
  
"Well, you should leave then, because we wouldn't want you to   
  
intrude either," I gulped down my mouthful and smiled ever so sweetly,   
  
dangerously gripping my fork. In about three seconds, it was about to   
  
connect with her air filled chest and deflate them faster than a Tokyo   
  
minute.   
  
"Mind your manners, Hughes," sternly reminded Darien, his   
  
eyebrows furrowed together at my remark.  
  
"I thought I was," with wide eyes, I responded.   
  
"I would like to leave, darling. Now."  
  
"Talk to you ladies later. Enjoy your lunch break."  
  
"Oh, we will. Especially since it's not fast food," I muttered   
  
that last part beneath my breath, but from his narrow eyed reaction   
  
and her stony glare, I had a sneaking suspicion that they overheard.   
  
The exact moment they left, I slammed my fist down on the   
  
table and glared at my glass.   
  
"I liked her," Mina suddenly stated, making me avert my   
  
glower from the exit to her. Innocently, she stirred her iced tea.   
  
"She was incredibly sweet, sociable, and…bitchy beyond belief!"  
  
"My thoughts exactly. Except that sweet and sociable mumbo-  
  
jumbo," Ami laughed.  
  
"Ditto."  
  
"Why the hell would Darien lunch with such a fake sleazebag?   
  
Rei, since you've known him the longest, can you please explain?"  
  
"Easy, take a look at her chest."  
  
"Darien's not that shallow, is he?"  
  
"What's wrong, Serena, jealous?"  
  
"N…no!"  
  
"She's greener than the jolly green giant!" screeched Lita,   
  
and even though I threw my napkin at her, she burst out into pleased   
  
laughter.  
  
"Please! Me, jealous?"  
  
"Yes, you, jealous!"  
  
"I am not jealous! Jealously entails that I feel some sort   
  
of ownership over Darien, which is hardly the case. He can perform the   
  
horizontal mambo with anyone he chooses." Excluding exceptionally   
  
rude redheads, I added mentally.   
  
Honestly, I never understood the concept of gorgeous, overall   
  
sweet men philandering with bitchy, although undoubtedly beautiful,   
  
women! Why must the nice, (well, the majority of the time) average   
  
looking woman be left out in the cold, to fall victim to the weirdoes,   
  
the jerks? Perhaps I should retire from the marketing field and delve   
  
into sociology. There was plenty about the strange species, known as   
  
men, to study about.   
  
"I think you do think that you have some sort of ownership   
  
over Darien," mused Lita.  
  
  
"What is this, Let's-psychoanalyze-Serena-Day?"  
  
"I'd prefer to call it, Let's-get-our-extremely-stubborn-  
  
best-friend-to-admit-her-feelings-Day," Ami solemnly nodded.  
  
"Far too long and far too ridiculous."  
  
"And perhaps, far too close to the truth."  
  
"And what about that kiss? I do declare," Mina fanned   
  
herself and adopted an accent reminiscent of Scarlet O'Hara, "that   
  
kiss was one of the hottest kisses I've ever seen."  
  
"I only kissed him on the cheek!"  
  
"I realize that, and that even shocks me more!"  
  
I had to secretly agree, although it seriously lacked lip-  
  
to-lip contact, that kiss nearly dissolved me into blonde goop.  
  
"See, that proves that you two are attracted to each other.   
  
The air was practically sizzling!" triumphantly clapped Rei.   
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
"You never were a good liar, sweetie."   
  
"So what if Darien is gorgeous? So what if his smile turns   
  
me knees to strands of spaghetti?" I accusingly flung out, rising   
  
to my feet as I continued my heartfelt tirade. "It doesn't mean I   
  
have feelings for the insensitive jerk! And now that my break is   
  
over, I'm leaving. You hear, leaving!" With my four best friends'   
  
shocked gazes trained on me, including everyone else in the suddenly   
  
quiet restaurant, I flounced away. And stopped. Fighting back a flush,   
  
I stomped straight back to the table, smacked several crumbled bills   
  
on the table to cover my bill and tip, and dramatically exited.   
  
  
News at six o'clock: An U.B.O., (Unidentified Blonde Object) is   
spotted in downtown Tokyo spray-painting over every single image  
of red headed models, leaving strange messages like 'blondes rule.'  
  
  
  
Sorry if you guys found that boring, it  
was the 'girl talk' chapter that answered  
a lot of people's questions. Oh yes, and   
I want to address the question over   
Serena's virginity. Granted, the poor  
girl doesn't seem to have much luck  
in love, she is *not* a virgin. That  
comment over her being a virgin tease  
was simply an exaggeration in her mind.  
I just wanted to address that, even though  
it's a little late ^_^; (It was 3 chapters  
ago, but nevermind that).   
  
Okay, feedback, anyone? I love to hear   
from you guys, honestly, I do! Good, bad,  
ugly...all of em. So email, review,   
critique, whatever.   
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com.  
  
Until next time, dear readers. 


	6. Chronicle Six

Ta-da! It's finally here! Whew,  
I can finally breathe! Firstly,  
I think all those people who   
still remained faithful and   
patient deserve a huge THANK  
YOU. I realize it takes nearly  
a century for me to update, so  
I appreciate all the emails and  
reviews. Once again, be sure to  
critique and email me.  
  
  
Disclaimer: Yep, still don't own  
Sailor Moon. Neither do I own  
the Incredible Hulk nor those   
munchkins from the Wizard of Oz.   
To each character their   
respective owners.   
  
  
Chronicle Six  
  
To be quite frank, I felt like someone had repeatedly   
  
bludgeoned me with a satchel of cement bricks. Undoubtedly,   
  
while I critically inspected my pale, utterly sorry looking face,   
  
I looked like I had suffered such an experience.   
  
With the assistance of an excellent lubricant, (and no,   
  
not that type you gutter minded folk) I had managed to squeeze   
  
my plump bottom into my office chair and set out to perfect a  
  
marketing presentation for an important client who, as my boss   
  
gracefully claimed, "Ate, drank, and shit money."   
  
So commendable was my work ethic that I even forced   
  
myself to endure the janitors' late night song and dance routines,   
  
sometimes complete with frilly, brightly colored costumes.   
  
Inject shiver. Mr. Kamito's imitations of Ricky Martin's derriere   
  
sashays continued to vividly haunt my memories.   
  
Scary. How utterly scary.  
  
Truly, I deserved the 'Employee of the Decade' award for  
  
surviving such frightening prospects. Especially when four   
  
custodians had donned outfits that oddly resembled those of the   
  
Village People and began to wildly prance to the beats of 'YMCA.'   
  
So, as Fate would have it, just as I was about to collapse   
  
happily onto the plush covers of my beckoning bed, the portable   
  
phone rang. Angrily, I stared at the ringing contraption,   
  
hopefully willing it into silence with the ugliness of my look.   
  
When it did not heed my silent warnings, I reached over and   
  
snarled nastily, "Yeah?"   
  
"And good evening to you, Sunshine!" giggled Mina, sounding   
  
far too happy and well rested to me, who had only received less   
  
than 12 hours of sleep in the past two weeks.  
  
"Seeing that I have acquired more, highly unattractive   
  
wrinkles than an elephant, this had better be good. No, wait, let   
  
me rephrase that. Pretty damn good," I negatively growled, happily   
  
imagining myself reaching through the phone line and wringing her   
  
oblivious neck.   
  
"You wouldn't mind if the girls and I stopped over, would   
  
you?"  
  
"Yes, I would, actually! I'm nearly falling over from   
  
fatigue, and I'm hardly in the hostess mo—," I paused in mid tirade   
  
when the doorbell rang. Closing my eyes and muttering a trillion   
  
Hail Mary's for my murderous thoughts, I choked out, "You wouldn't   
  
happen to be standing at my door?"  
  
"Uhh…no?"   
  
Without bothering to respond, I carelessly hurled the   
  
telephone across the room and raced to the entrance. I had my own   
  
strong suspicions exactly who, or more accurately a group of whom,   
  
was waiting on the other side.   
  
My door flung open, revealing me, (tada!) who was glaring   
  
quite frightening. "You don't realize how hard it is to battle   
  
against the temptation of strangling each and every one of you   
  
right now."  
  
"Told you she was in a glorious mood," murmured Mina,   
  
nervously edging away when I fiercely nailed her with a death-  
  
inducing glance.   
  
"I am going to slam this door shut unless I hear a damn   
  
good reason why my precious sleep was so rudely interrupted."  
  
"Wow…you really should do something about those dark   
  
circles. It looks like someone gave you two, nasty black eyes,"   
  
sincerely observed Lita. As she leaned forward to poke and examine   
  
my scrunched face, she was immediately pulled back by an observant   
  
Rei, who noted my tightening expression.   
  
"Thanks for elegantly pointing that out," I fumed. Honestly,   
  
did I need someone else to point out that I looked like something   
  
the cat dragged in! Inject annoyed growl.   
  
"Mind if we come in?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
I relished the confused pause. Yes, I realize I can be purely   
  
evil. Isn't it wonderful?  
  
"But we have a present for you!" chirped Ami, dangling the gift   
  
bag like a marinated steak. My eyes instantly followed its pendulum   
  
like swung, and my body was consumed by that childish impulse to   
  
lunge at it. That feeling was very reminiscent of my wolfish behavior   
  
on Christmas morning as a child.   
  
Luckily, I fought against that magnetic sensation, and snapped,   
  
"How exciting. I'm riveted, really I am. Come back tomorrow."   
  
Before I could even savor the satisfaction of slamming the door   
  
in their faces, (I realize I was acting beyond genteel, but it was the   
  
lack of sleep talking, not sweet, angelic me!) Rei, with her customary   
  
air of bossiness, dryly laughed.   
  
"Listen here, Meatball Head, we did not drive over here to waste   
  
our gas, especially with those monstrous prices." With that explanatory   
  
comment, she immediately strode forward, valiantly fighting a growing   
  
grin when she observed my bewildered face. Nodding and murmuring   
  
their agreement, the rest of my dearly beloved, soon to be departed   
  
friends scrambled in suit, each woman trying not to be at the back   
  
of the huddle. They fearfully whispered among themselves of the strange   
  
gleam in my eyes and the possibility of me transforming into the   
  
Incredible Hulk. Snapping out of my amazed trance, I flounced after   
  
the murmuring pack.   
  
Some would compliment their faithfulness, but I simply denounced   
  
it as annoying persistence.   
  
"Sit down, sit down," clucked Mother Hen Ami, pulling me beside   
  
her and affectionately slipping her arm through mine.   
  
Before I could bitch about their discourtesy, Mina skipped to   
  
the center of my living room, cleared her throat, and began in a   
  
ridiculously dramatic voice, "Seeing how diligently you have worked on   
  
that marketing presentation, the girls and I decided to reward your   
  
efforts with a gift from our hearts. Let us hope it fulfills its uses."   
  
Somehow, the others found her last comment highly amusing, for   
  
much to my irritation, they dissolved into high pitched peals of   
  
laughter. At once, they exploded into thunderous applause and hoots,   
  
seemingly dazzled by her words. Lita kicked my feet to signal that I   
  
should mirror their actions, but I positively refused to partake in   
  
their insanity.   
  
Such strange creatures. I often wondered how I wound up with   
  
such an odd lot.   
  
"Oh, for Pete's sake, can you stop it already!" I cried after   
  
five minutes of consecutive clapping. Shaking her head at my impatient   
  
outburst, my fair friend glided forward, sweepingly bowed, and deposited   
  
a glittery, lavender gift bag into my unexpected lap.   
  
Sighing rather loudly, I began to sift through the contents,   
  
which thus far consisted mainly of tissue paper. And even more tissue   
  
paper, I noted with furrowed eyebrows. Whatever this present was, it   
  
was buried by at least twenty five pounds of tissue paper. Finally,   
  
I gingerly reached for something neon pink near the bottom of the gift   
  
bag.   
  
I was rendered utterly speechless. It was…  
  
"Only five speed?" I feigned a disappointed expression,   
  
clutching at my heart as if in physical agony.  
  
"Amazing. I didn't realize you were such an insatiable horn   
  
dog," commented Ami in astonishment, adjusting her glasses to closely   
  
scrutinize me. Shocked by the uncharacteristic remark, I chortled at   
  
her reaction and at the ludicrous gift my wacky gaggle had purchased.   
  
"All right, you guys managed to somewhat cheer me up, stop   
  
smiling like braggarts."   
  
"I believe Darien Junior was just what the doctor ordered,"   
  
declared Mina happily.   
  
Upon hearing her casual slip, I actually choked on my own   
  
saliva, and began to cough violently. Lita's protective instincts   
  
suddenly reared their motherly head as she repeatedly whacked me on   
  
the back, bellowing 'breathe!' in a commanding voice.   
  
"Come again?" I gasped after I barely recovered.   
  
"It shouldn't be such a surprise! Seeing that you already   
  
have an insane crush on the actual gentleman, Darien Junior seemed   
  
only appropriate," hastily explained my blonde friend, rounding my  
  
quaint dining table when she noted my hands tightly clench.   
  
"Firstly, twenty nine year old women do not develop childish   
  
'crushes!' Secondly, I do not have a crush on Darien!"   
  
"Would obsession be a better term?" Ami thoughtfully   
  
suggested.  
  
"This is ridiculous! I have no feelings for Darien,   
  
whatsoever."  
  
"What about lust?"  
  
"Lust isn't an emotion," I quickly quipped, blushing at   
  
the appearance of their smug grins. "Stop smiling like that."  
  
"Then, pray tell, what is lust?"  
  
"Err…the bodily demonstration of hormones gone bonkers,   
  
of course."   
  
  
Reference:Page 165 of Serena's Dictionary.   
*Note:Disregard Webster's version*   
  
  
  
  
The definition sounded genuine enough, I mentally   
  
commended myself.   
  
"Unfortunately, you couldn't be more wrong. Lust is the   
  
basis for many relationships."   
  
"Fortunately, I have no intentions of even forming the base   
  
of a relationship with Darien."  
  
"Keep your shirt buttoned, Meatball Head. We were only   
  
teasing," Rei soothed, clasping my hands with hers.   
  
Haughtily tossing my ponytail over my shoulder, I nonchalantly   
  
replied, "Quite right, the sheer possibility of Darien and I   
  
getting together is laughable enough."  
  
"Before the Blonde Bombshell detonates, why don't we head   
  
back home, troop?" forcibly proposed Rei before love guru Mina could   
  
comment.   
  
"Great idea, I'm about to fall over from fatigue," I   
  
smothered a yawn.   
  
"Girls, you wouldn't believe it! Yesterday, I met the most   
  
wonderful man at the grocery store!" chattered Lita. In her state   
  
of excitement, she rattled the frail Ami like a rag doll as she   
  
skipped to the door.   
  
"Let me guess, he reminded you of your old boyfriend?" I   
  
quipped solemnly, biting my lip to keep from releasing a shout of   
  
laughter when she glanced wondrously at me.  
  
"How did you know that?"  
  
"Wild guess, of course."  
  
"As amazing as her powers of deduction are, I'm afraid we   
  
must be going. Now," Rei insistently tugged on Lita's leather   
  
purse, shaking her head disapprovingly at my wicked sense of humor.   
  
"Thanks for the gift!" I shouted after their disappearing   
  
  
figures. With an exhausted sigh, I trudged back to my bedroom,   
  
and promptly collapsed into a nearly death like slumber.   
  
  
  
  
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, fixing an admittedly   
  
rude look upon the approaching Darien. With his slate gray business   
  
suit perfectly outlining his broad shoulders and narrow waist, he   
  
looked every bit the suave, utterly gorgeous businessman, I grumpily   
  
noted through lowered eyelashes.  
  
"I was invited to lunch with the girls today, if you must   
  
  
know," listlessly explained Darien, placing his briefcase on the chair   
  
beside me. As he shrugged off his jacket and loosened his silk,   
  
periwinkle tie, my mouth positively watered when I instantly noted   
  
the defined muscles rippling beneath his impeccably starched, white   
  
dress shirt.  
  
  
Bad Serena:Take it off, take it off!  
Good Serena:I got a dollar!  
Bad Serena:Isn't that supposed to be my line?  
  
  
I shook my head, as if trying to mentally rouse my dormant   
  
common sense. He was even infecting my morally opposing hosts!   
  
Honestly, what was wrong with me?   
  
"Oh? And by whom?"   
  
"If I'm not mistaken, it was Lita."   
  
I muttered something about where the loyalties of true   
  
friends lay before returning to my menu, trying to ignore his warm   
  
presence when he occupied the seat beside me. After a few seconds,   
  
I sneaked a glance, only to find the insufferable jerk staring quite   
  
openly at me. Much to my annoyance, my heart leapt out of my chest,   
  
and suddenly my hormones began to perform the 'shagging' ritual.   
  
Realizing my face continued to resemble a tomato more and more as   
  
the seconds ticked by, I purposefully shielded myself with the   
  
laminated menu.   
  
Stupid, stupid Serena. Stop acting so daft! My mental   
  
chastisements were interrupted by rich, velvety laughter.   
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Nothing."   
  
Uneasily, (well, only on my part, the exasperating jerk   
  
looked perfectly composed) we placed our orders with yet another,   
  
susceptible schoolgirl of a waitress. Thrice, I had to repeat my   
  
order because she was too preoccupied with displaying her basketball   
  
twins to listen to my requests for a grilled chicken Caesar salad.   
  
Women.   
  
Arms crossed across my chest, I watched as Darien's eye   
  
momentarily followed after the seductive waitress before returning   
  
my disapprovingly glare.   
  
"What is it now, sweetheart?"   
  
"I'm not your sweetheart, mister. And I was just reminded   
  
of men's innate ability to act like pigs."   
  
Once we received our orders, Darien thoughtfully commented,   
  
"I don't think I'll ever understand you."   
  
"Did I ask for you to understand me?" I retorted, deliberately   
  
turning my head opposite of his direction.  
  
He chose that timely moment to chuckle quietly. Deducing   
  
that I was the object of his amusement, I glowered threateningly and   
  
demanded, "Will you stop laughing at me?"   
  
"I don't think you realize how adorable you are," he casually   
  
lifted a hand to my blushing cheeks. Propping an elbow on the table,   
  
he slowly leaned towards me, sensually stroking my high cheekbones.   
  
That finger slowly traveled south to trace my bottom lip, undoubtedly   
  
rubbing off my already fading lipstick. My tongue, moving on its own   
  
accord, sneaked out to wet my suddenly dry mouth, but in turn, licked   
  
his probing finger. His eyes, watching the entire display with heavy   
  
lids, flew up to meet my wide ones. For several, impossibly long moments,   
  
he gazed piercingly at me, as if trying to decide how to respond to my   
  
wanton actions. Moving, let alone breathing properly, was out of   
  
question, as I found myself rooted to my chair. I believe that I tried   
  
to speak, but embarrassingly enough, it sounded like unintelligible   
  
gurgles.   
  
My eyes closed fittingly when I felt his breath brush against  
  
my parting lips. I was bombarded with the sensations of strong fingers   
  
outlining the cups of my bra, a lush mouth nuzzling my ears.   
  
Heavens, I wanted that man to kiss me senseless and much, much   
  
more.   
  
And just as I admitted that to myself, my evil, useless cell   
  
phone sprang to life with a digital interpretation of the Sugar Plum   
  
Fairy sequence.  
  
  
"Damn it!" I muttered rather loudly, my trembling fingers   
  
fumbling for my pocketbook. Since I am a nimble person and I am   
  
capable of conducting myself appropriately, I happened to knock over   
  
my purse in the hapless process, spilling all the contents onto the   
  
table.   
  
"Damn it!" this time, I shouted my frustration. Hastily, I   
  
shoved makeup compacts, random receipts, breakfast bars, and candy   
  
wrappers back into my shoulder bag, pleading with every deity that   
  
entered my mind for just one, uninterrupted minute.  
  
"I'm assuming that this is yours?"   
  
"Thank y—eek!" I screeched, flailing my arms as I leapt out   
  
of my seat, my face contorted with absolute horror.  
  
"Sorry we're late, traffic was a pure monster!" announced   
  
Rei, completely unaware of my present situation. Scrutinizing her   
  
closer, I reconsidered her innocence.   
  
"Serena? What's wrong, honey?" demanded Lita, but her   
  
inquiries were instantly hushed when she noted the line of my   
  
  
vision.   
  
"How the HELL did that get in my purse!" I shouted, wildly   
  
pointing to a painfully familiar neon pink object embedded in   
  
Darien's pasta. Averting a half furious, half mortified stare to   
  
my guilty gaggle of former comrades, I repeated my question with a   
  
double measure of pure, feminine rage.   
  
"Hughes, calm down," Darien soothed, his hands rubbing the   
  
stiff muscles of my back with infinite care.   
  
"Calm down? I think it's going to take at least two weeks   
  
before my face returns to its normal color! Just look at that…at   
  
that…!" I stuttered idiotically, grasping for the appropriate phrase.   
  
I wasn't certain who the culprit was, but I distinctively   
  
heard someone murmur 'penis pasta.' My eyes narrowed, trying to   
  
discern the brave comedian in the making.  
  
"Oh, very clever! I didn't think you girls were capable   
  
of something so underhanded, so despicable! Clearly," gesturing   
  
to the horrifying evidence, "I was wrong!"   
  
"I'm sure it began as an innocent joke, no harm intended.   
  
Besides, it's not as if I was born yesterday, Hughes. I am   
  
aware that plenty of healthy, attractive women use similar..," he   
  
quickly groped for a suitable word, "instruments to keep alive.   
  
Really, it's not something to get riled about. Here, by the way,"   
  
he nudged me and discreetly offered me the pleasure oriented   
  
contraption.   
  
"Excuse me, but I do not use that…that instrument to keep   
  
me alive, thank you very much!" I snapped. Snatching the cleaned   
  
vibrator out of his grasp, I quickly shoved it into my pocketbook   
  
while I surreptitiously surveyed the entire restaurant for onlookers.   
  
Luckily, everybody was too concerned with their own food to worry   
  
about a particular, half crazed blonde and her vibrator troubles.   
  
Somehow, that oddly comforted me.   
  
"Darien's absolutely right. How about we all sit down,   
  
like normal adults, and enjoy our lunch break?" placidly suggested   
  
Ami, elegantly sliding into her usual seat while silently imploring   
  
me with her convincing, indigo eyes.   
  
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, but obeyed her plea for   
  
harmony. Cautiously, as if expecting me to explode and lash out   
  
randomly, the others slowly seated themselves. Out of the corner   
  
of my eye, I could see Rei visually tracing the route for the   
  
nearest fire escape should I do something deliciously horrible like   
  
attack her with my fork and spoon. Mina was ever so slightly moving   
  
her seat closer to Lita, clearly hoping that the brunette would   
  
shield her from any attacks.  
  
"So, what should I order?" questioned Rei.  
  
"Spaghetti sounds good today. I've been craving that for   
  
weeks now," Lita babbled while she curiously noted Mina pressed   
  
closely to her armrest, ducked down in the strangest defensive   
  
stance.  
  
"Good idea."   
  
"You guys all set with your orders?" the waitress returned,   
  
fluttering her eyelashes at a grinning Darien. I rolled my eyes,   
  
the pig. And to think I actually wished he would kiss me senseless.   
  
Was I taking wrongly prescribed medication?   
  
  
Bad Serena:Would overactive hormones be considered a medication?  
Me:Oh, shaddup!   
  
  
Darien did not turn me on, damn it! How many times did I   
  
need to remind my sex deprived body that? So what if his shoulders   
  
were wonderfully broad, especially in those tailored business suits?   
  
So what if his hands were just the most enticing combination of   
  
callused tenderness? So what if I was fighting against the headiest   
  
urge to leap into his lap, rip off that beautiful Ralph Lauren suit,   
  
and ravage the poor man until he and I couldn't walk for a week?   
  
Disgusted with myself, I took a wholly unfeminine swig of   
  
my water and monstrously burped out my frustrations.   
  
"Bravo," he quietly commented, while the others, waitress   
  
included, stared openly at me.   
  
Hardly caring of their quite obvious thoughts, I defiantly   
  
drained the remaining drops in my glass. After the vibrator   
  
incident, what else could possibly match that?  
  
"I'll take your penis pasta," Rei decided from behind her   
  
menu.  
  
Well, that remark slid in as a close second.  
  
Quickly registering what actually slipped out of her mouth,   
  
she actually gasped in pure shock, and stammered stupidly to correct   
  
herself. "I mean, er, just pasta! No penis included. Ouch! I   
  
mean, yes, spaghetti and meatballs. By balls, I mean—OUCH!" After   
  
she finally choked out an innuendo free order, she glared at Lita,   
  
whose lips was twitching suspiciously. Then, ever so warily, she   
  
swiveled her gaze to me. If it wasn't for Ami-the-Pacifist, who was   
  
trying her best to act mature about the damn situation, I would have   
  
reached into my purse and easily whacked her over the head with very  
  
object she found so hilarious. Darien made no attempts to even hide   
  
his amusement, as he laughed outright at the former priestess'   
  
wonderful ability to dig herself into deep, pain promising cavities.  
  
"Stop glaring at me, it was a sincere accident!" Rei argued.  
  
"The penis pasta slip up or placing my 'gift' in my purse?"  
  
"The penis slip up, of course!"  
  
"So you deliberately staged the entire vibrator spaghetti   
  
scenario!"  
  
"Stop placing words in my mouth! I never said that!"  
  
"Oh? Exactly what are you trying to say?"   
  
My, wasn't I on a roll? I definitely picked up a few   
  
pointers from Dad, having been interrogated by him numerous times   
  
for being caught red handedly sneaking into my own house. Somehow,   
  
he was highly doubtful of the possibility of me sleepwalking.   
  
Perhaps the heavy makeup and the outrageously miniscule amount of   
  
clothing I was wearing were a giveaway.   
  
Mina, sensing her desperation and my bloodlust, reached   
  
over, patted her on the back, and advised piteously, "Why don't you   
  
just quit while you're ahead?"  
  
  
  
"Stop acting like such a child, Hughes," a silky baritone   
  
purred in my ear. As I prepared a witty retort to his gentle   
  
chastisement, I felt a familiar hand encircle the nape of my neck,   
  
applying just the perfect bit of pressure to send stimulating thrills   
  
down my spine. But instead of leaning into his warmth, I shrugged   
  
off his touch and bristled like a raging wolf.   
  
"It wasn't the least bit funny! To be perfectly honest, it   
  
was quite embarrassing!" I angrily corrected him, stamping my foot to   
  
display my extreme sophistication.   
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Oh, I'm sure it's just hilarious to you, Mr. I'm-the-Most-  
  
Wanted-Bachelor-in-Tokyo! Isn't just hysterical that I, Serena Hughes,   
  
need a vibrator to survive a sorry excuse of a love life? Well," I   
  
abruptly turned to face Darien, who had been quietly trailing behind   
  
me while I loudly ranted, and poked his broad chest repeatedly, "you   
  
couldn't be more wrong! I don't need a plastic, neon pink pleasure   
  
toy to get my kicks!"   
  
Several onlookers momentarily paused mid-step and overtly   
  
gawked at my rather explicit exclamation. One senior citizen, who   
  
had been hobbling about on her cane, shouted at me to display some   
  
decency in public, but immediately shut up once I threatened to   
  
filch her walking stick.  
  
  
Annoying Inner Voice:So you sunk that low to insult old,   
defenseless ladies?  
  
  
Damn straight.  
  
"There's nothing wrong with that, I'd say it's only   
  
natural. And besides, I don't believe you're pathetic at all.   
  
Far from pathetic, actually," he grinned, and trapped my hand   
  
between his own and his muscular chest.  
  
"Please, lying doesn't suit you, Langston. I recommend for   
  
you to remain obnoxiously truthful," I scornfully advised, watching   
  
in half horror, half excitement when he lifted my hand and brushed   
  
his extremely wicked lips against my knuckles. I nearly fainted   
  
on the bustling streets of Tokyo when his delicious mouth slid across   
  
my fingers and softly kissed the tips of my fingers. Faintly, I   
  
heard several female bystanders sigh dreamily.   
  
Startled wouldn't even describe my emotions when I ripped   
  
my stare from his roving lips and found a decent crowd of half   
  
drooling women surrounding us. One lady, luxuriously lost in a mink   
  
coat, whacked her balding husband with her Gucci purse and, while   
  
irately indicating to Darien, demanded, "Why can't you be more like   
  
him!"   
  
Blushing furiously, I tugged at my hand and fiercely whispered,   
  
"Let go of me!"   
  
"What ever is the matter, Hughes? First, you complain how men   
  
are so insensitive, but you still carp when one does shower you with   
  
attention."   
  
"Yes, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I complained   
  
of sensitivity!" I said through gritted teeth. With one, monstrous effort,   
  
I liberated my thoroughly lavished hand, which was still tingling from   
  
the sensuality of his butterfly kisses, and frowned fiercely to mask the   
  
urge to launch myself (naked!) into his arms.  
  
Refusing to make eye contact, I resumed my journey back to the   
  
office.  
  
"As I said before, I don't think I'll ever understand you," he   
  
reflected. Rejecting the tempting inclination to mutter something   
  
vulgar, I continued to weave through the masses, pointedly ignoring   
  
his much unwanted presence.   
  
  
Serena's rampart hormones:Who the hell said unwanted?   
Serena's highly intelligent mind:I did, you buffoons!   
  
  
"Good, then stop trying."  
  
"What is your problem against me, Hughes, and men for that  
  
matter?" demanded Darien, evidently my attitude finally cracking  
  
through his composed exterior. Lifting an eyebrow, I propped myself  
  
against a traffic pole, waiting for the pedestrian crossing sign  
  
to blink.   
  
"I just don't understand why you enjoy bothering me with   
  
pointless questions."  
  
"Such as…?"  
  
"Well…err…, you know!" I sputtered, averting my eyes when   
  
his wintry blue gaze became particularly piercing. As we waited  
  
in a contemplative silence, he continued to regard me with  
  
growing intensity, his eyes seeming to melt my frigid façade.   
  
I almost 'eeped' when Darien abruptly leaned forward, his   
  
powerful hands resting lightly on my outstretched elbow.   
  
"Actually, I haven't a clue to what you're talking about.  
  
Why don't you enlighten me?" he rasped, never breaking his   
  
commanding stare as his feathery touch slowly slid from  
  
my elbow, down my goose bumped covered forearm, and halted at  
  
my trembling fingers. His hands began to weave through mine,   
  
and I watched in fascination as his thumb began to gently   
  
massage mine in an alluring, circular motion.   
  
"You know, those questions about women that never   
  
cease to puzzle men!"  
  
"Is it wrong to be interested in the way that you,   
  
Serena Hughes, think? Because really, it just shows my   
  
growing fascination with you," he smiled broadly, breaking   
  
every statute of personal space as he leaned in impossibly   
  
close. Out of the corner of my eye, the Fates demonstrated  
  
some mercy and decided at that moment that the traffic light  
  
would change from green to red. Too inexperienced to   
  
properly handle his flustering attentions, I slipped out   
  
of his embrace and began to immerse myself with the crowd.  
  
"Can't stand there forever!" I said, shrugging in  
  
convincingly feigned innocence when Darien reappeared at my  
  
side.   
  
"Why do you do that?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"That!"  
  
"What's that?" I deliberately dodged his question, knowing   
  
full and well exactly what he was referring to: my cowardly  
  
ways. But, not in any way, shape, or condition was I   
  
capable of facing him, my friends, my opposing entities, my  
  
heart. After all, I was a Class One Coward, and if need be,  
  
bitch.   
  
"Save me your blonde bimbo routine. You're too  
  
intelligent for that, Hughes."   
  
"Look Langston, I enjoyed this heart to heart, honestly,  
  
I did. But, lunch break is nearly over and my bear of a   
  
boss is probably standing right outside my office door,   
  
waiting for my arrival. Why don't you follow in suit, call   
  
a cab, and get to work?" I breezily suggested, patting his   
  
forearm to signal my departure.   
  
"You have exactly thirteen minutes," Darien blocked my   
  
heavenly escape route, for all I needed to do was follow  
  
the yellow brick road straight through those revolving   
  
doors. Images of brightly dressed munchkins literally   
  
danced through head, as they sang in high pitched voices to  
  
that easily recognizable tune. Unfortunately, the Wicked Jerk   
  
of the Oriental East was hindering my runaway, and there was   
  
no possibly way of squeezing my voluminous curves past.   
  
"And…?"  
  
"We're going to talk."  
  
"Who says?"  
  
"I say, you saucy little minx."   
  
"You have absolutely no authority over me, Langston.  
  
I'm not another employee at your Daddy's company," and without  
  
indulging him with a single glance behind, I strode purposefully  
  
into to the building and boarded the empty elevator. Mentally,  
  
I cheered louder at a football stadium during the Superbowl,  
  
which is a fairly commendable feat, at my wittiness, at my luck,  
  
at just how wonderfully I shoved Darien's arrogance down his own  
  
throat.   
  
Serena, Superwoman. Wooo, I thoroughly enjoyed the sound  
  
of that.   
  
Serena, the Sensational. Wow, lightening almost struck me,  
  
that nickname sounded so damn…sensational.   
  
As more monikers bombarded my mind, the two doors that   
  
began to slide shut immediately swung back open when an expensive,   
  
Italian leather shoe squeezed in between. Gawking, I wordlessly   
  
watched as Darien sauntered into the elevator, hit that forbidden   
  
red button, and glued me to my very spot with his intense gaze.   
  
"We're going to talk, right now," he announced.   
  
"What is the matter with you? I need to get back to work,  
  
my boss has a tendency to send out a search and rescue even if you're  
  
only a minute late!" I reminded him. Tossing my chignon in his face,  
  
I leaned forward to push that same red button to resume my voyage  
  
back to my office. Unfortunately, I was rendered useless when   
  
Darien grabbed my arm with little force and pressed me against the  
  
wall. Too flabbergasted to speak, I gaped up at his alarmingly  
  
handsome face.   
  
"You've displayed the worst table manners in front of me, and  
  
weren't the least bit embarrassed. But lo and behold, a vibrator   
  
should slip into my main course, and you're mortified."  
  
"I think a vibrator is a bit more shocking than burping!"  
  
"Some women might beg to differ."  
  
"Some women are not in their right minds."  
  
"That's very traitorous of you to admit."  
  
"Eh, if the shoe fits."  
  
"I think that you were implicitly revealing something, out   
  
when you were ranting about your shortcomings."   
  
"Will you stop saying that, already? Your thinking is completely   
  
bonkers! I could care less of your opinion of me!"   
  
"Then explain your previous comments about me, 'the eligible   
  
bachelor', laughing at you, the supposed 'pathetic single girl,' because   
  
you own a vibrator?"  
  
I did open my mouth to protest, to deny, to cleverly comment at   
  
least. But even if the livelihood of future generations lay on my   
  
shoulders, I couldn't have concocted a response! A gurgle, even.   
  
Immediately, I closed my O-shaped mouth, not wanting to appear any more   
  
an idiot than already possible.   
  
Damn it, he was absolutely right. I did actually place some value   
  
on the bastard's thoughts and opinions, more than I truly liked to admit.   
  
But his over inflated ego did not need another dosage of helium, and I   
  
was not willing to provide that extra dosage.   
  
"And what about your unexplained bouts of jealousy?" he demanded,  
  
his hands beginning to trace down the ridges of my spine. I shivered,  
  
despite myself. Uneasily, I began to slide out of his embrace, but   
  
upon noting this, he only pulled me closer.   
  
"I…I…," I stammered, feeling my face grow red at his knowing  
  
touch.  
  
"And what about this ridiculous temptation for me to kiss you?"   
  
he menacingly demanded. To that, I had no clever response, but that   
  
was hardly necessary seeing that he crushed my lips with his own.   
  
At first, I was ever resistant, both to shocked and angered by his   
  
audacious tactics. Sensing this, he pressed a warm hand to the   
  
small of my back and outlined my entire mouth with his wonderful   
  
tongue. With a surrendering sigh on my part, he invaded my mouth   
  
with sensual flicks of his tongue, and I could only arch   
  
encouragingly against his muscular body. His other hand tugged   
  
on my chignon, urging my head back. By doing this, he continued   
  
to kiss me another angle that left me completely open to the hot   
  
onslaught of his wet tongue and knowing hands.   
  
I never had such a strong conviction for the afterlife until   
  
then, because I was certain I was in heaven.   
  
My hands wrapped around his neck, my tongue was completely   
  
consumed with battling against his. I felt his skillful touch   
  
glide over the curve of my hip and up my ribcage, and finally,   
  
to my chest. One large hand engulfed my left breast, while his   
  
thrumb lightly rubbed my hardening nipple, evident through my   
  
white, silk blouse. As electricity spread like a wild fire in a  
  
dry savanna throughout my body, I pressed into his touch and   
  
groaned into his mouth, increasing the speed of my dueling tongue.  
  
Suddenly, I wanted to be in my bedroom, instead of this the   
  
Dratted elevator. Rather on the bed, rather than pressed against   
  
the cold metal of the elevator wall. But when his thumb began to   
  
massage faster, all thoughts were lost.   
  
It seemed like an eternity when we finally untangled ourselves.  
  
I was breathing heavily, I felt like I had just finished a five   
  
Kilometer race instead of senselessly kissing the very man who had   
  
once been my sworn enemy. Feminine pride surged when I observed   
  
Darien's flushed face and equally labored breathing, he was clearly   
  
as affected by the quite explicit kiss as I was. I had been kissed  
  
plenty before, more frogs than anything remotely prince material,  
  
but that…that exchange between Darien and I would remain in a  
  
class by itself.   
  
For a few seconds, we were silent, too shocked and aroused  
  
to shatter the hot moment with pointless words. I had released  
  
probably twenty nine years of pent up sexual frustration in that  
  
one kiss, and my hormones and lips were prepared to repeat the  
  
entire incident once again. Finally, Darien approached me again.  
  
Leaning down, he tenderly brushed his lips against my swollen ones,  
  
and murmured, "I'm going to call you this Saturday. Be sure to  
  
keep your schedule and line open, Hughes."   
  
I nodded and gulped audibly. He smiled another heart  
  
melting smile, pressed that crimson knob, and departed from my  
  
particularly horny presence.   
  
  
  
News at six o'clock:Unknown blonde, claimed to be foaming at   
the mouth, is seen chasing after a cluster of four women. If the   
offender is caught, she could be charged for carrying a weapon   
without a license. Keep a lookout, she is armed and dangerous.   
  
  
  
Whew, I think that is probably one of   
my most descriptive kissing scenes to  
date. I was a little hesitant writing  
it, to be honest. But, once again,  
tell me, dear readers, your reaction.   
  
::runs for pom poms. Adopts cheerleader-  
esque smile::  
  
Give me a R!  
  
R!  
  
Give me an E!  
  
E!  
  
Give me a V!  
  
V!  
  
Give me an I!  
  
I!  
  
Give me a E!  
  
E!  
  
Give me a W!  
  
W!  
  
What's that spell?  
REVIEW! WOOOHOO!  
  
Dreamwriter_1234@yahoo.com 


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